<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561</id><updated>2011-04-22T06:35:34.783+08:00</updated><title type='text'>im stupid</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>221</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-965738319878611684</id><published>2007-10-03T03:15:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T03:26:43.947+08:00</updated><title type='text'>saygoodnight&amp;go</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hi faggots. after a long and painful(not) deliberation, i've decided to move my ass to livejournal. because all the cool people are doing it. like WEILING.. and so and so, and if you aint doing it.. then you are so un-cool. so after 225 posts. i've decided to ditch old ass woman blogger to handsome charming cute &amp;amp;hot livejournal. go goodbye stinking blogger, &amp;amp;hello to new &amp;amp;less shitty things. so if your really complusive &amp;amp;obsessive and dying to know.. &lt;a href="http://7autumnflowers.livejournal.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; bitches.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-965738319878611684?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/965738319878611684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=965738319878611684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/965738319878611684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/965738319878611684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/10/saygoodnight.html' title='saygoodnight&amp;go'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-5338144750903493628</id><published>2007-09-24T02:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T04:46:22.480+08:00</updated><title type='text'>heartstrings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if your life could be written on paper and ink, how would you imagine it to be?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like, i'm living my life through the glass. like i'm caught, in this cold and limpid glass box. with no windows. &amp;amp;no doors. i can see everything, but i can't touch or feel anything. no wind, or the smell of flowers. i think i'm a marionette in disguise, masquerading in this human form, as your bestfriend, your shoulder to lean on, your sister &amp;amp;your foe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp;when i finally decide to rip off this facade will you run away?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can be who you want me to be, only because you pull the strings. but i do get tired sometimes. &amp;amp;if you push me too far, i will break. &amp;amp;when you put me back together again, it'll be totally different. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm actually not that happy a person. sometimes i do things unwillingly to make someone happy. like i'm so dictated to circumstances &amp;amp;i dont have a mind on my own. but i'd figured, if it's to make an extra person in this godforsaken place so over-exaggerating-ly exultant, then why not?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because if you could see me now, you'll see that there's no hate, just love and the hope that you'd see it too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but why am i still so bummed out? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-5338144750903493628?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/5338144750903493628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=5338144750903493628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5338144750903493628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5338144750903493628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/09/heartstrings.html' title='heartstrings'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-4623401499511294135</id><published>2007-09-20T02:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T03:37:45.339+08:00</updated><title type='text'>myheartisblueforyou</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ever wonder what it would take to make someone happy? a hug? a kiss? a word of expression? i personally, have no idea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;does it suck? to know that someone close doubts your ability to render kindness for kindness? &amp;amp;if you do something and no one is there to witness it, is it said that it was never done? people dont see? i think that they just choose not to see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;curious. sometimes, whatever you do isn't always ample. funny how people always want more. even after they get what they want.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, isn't it funny how we let things slip? and how we so easily underappreciate people when their right beside us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;joseph addison once said, 'there is not a more pleasing exercise of the mind than gratitude. it is accompanied with such an inward satisfaction that the duty is sufficiently rewarded by the performance.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-4623401499511294135?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/4623401499511294135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=4623401499511294135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4623401499511294135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4623401499511294135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/09/myheartisblueforyou.html' title='myheartisblueforyou'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-1073346563866162296</id><published>2007-09-19T13:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T13:50:09.841+08:00</updated><title type='text'>thesunwokethewholestate</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n319/kaypeebaby/P1040152-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;the merlion looks like a donkey head hoisted by a really freaky fish body. mm. i ate frog porrrrridge yesterday. and no it doesnt taste like sweet chicken. it tastes more like.. mm.. frog. i also ate tissue prata. and we also went driving! stupid hermann always so kan chiong for nothing! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;anyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyway, my posts aren't always depressing &amp;amp;mopey &amp;amp;dejected &amp;amp;oppressive. see faggots, i can be happy too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;i wouldn't be awake so early tho, if it wasnt for enrolling of classes. stupid praba&amp;amp;jLo! i think its time to switch back my biological clock. my dad's been calling me an american for some apparent reason. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;i was awake the other night, and to those who didnt know, some weirdo lady's staying at my place for a few days, think shes my dad's aunt or something, but i have zero idea who she is and i've never seen her in my entire life before. mm. queer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;o, right, i was awake, and i had to pee. and the lights were out so i couldn't really see? and she sort of came outta no where. ya so that kinda freaked me out. mm, aiya i know it doesnt sound so scary now, but i was alone that night ohk. bitch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;i think i want to adopt a koala bear. a koala bear is a sluggish tailless australian arboreal marsupial with grey furry ears and coat which feeds on eucalyptus leaves and bark. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-1073346563866162296?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/1073346563866162296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=1073346563866162296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/1073346563866162296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/1073346563866162296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/09/thesunwokethewholestate.html' title='thesunwokethewholestate'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-1356587050685980594</id><published>2007-09-16T18:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T18:49:52.822+08:00</updated><title type='text'>aflowerinafieldofweeds</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n319/kaypeebaby/3t55t3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n319/kaypeebaby/fbbddb.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;'people that are meant to be together always find their way in the end.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-1356587050685980594?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/1356587050685980594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=1356587050685980594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/1356587050685980594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/1356587050685980594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/09/aflowerinafieldofweeds.html' title='aflowerinafieldofweeds'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-2600520435545552769</id><published>2007-09-15T18:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T19:21:35.459+08:00</updated><title type='text'>thehardestpartisshiningbackatyou</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hi faggots. i went clubbing like a few days back and i saw this really fat girl on the dance floor. dont you just feel like poking fat people with a fork? their so squishy. ohk wait a minute.. mm.. aiya whatever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know whats the best part about clubbing? its not the alcohol or the music or the company or just the environment. is how you get to see some really retarded people dance. i mean if you see a really fat woman on the streets could you eveer imagine her dancing? HAHA. no. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E.D.G.Y!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;anyway, i just think that, really fat people should be banned from clubs. well i dont know, firstly, they take up space, 2ndly, they take up space. 3rdly, some of them smell really really really really bad. im alright with geeks, just not fat people. why? simple! because they're &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;fat&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, here's a qoute from my bestfriend kevin fung, tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (6:47 PM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;love is like a butterfly, hold it too tight and u'll crush it, hold it too light and it'll fly away&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL. gay enough? wait theres more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (6:50 PM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HSM 2 was pretty good&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (6:51 PM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;but the songs wasnt really good&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (6:51 PM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1 is still the best&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Kevin says (6:51 PM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (6:52 PM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;kaypeebaby says (6:52 PM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;your gay dude&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (6:52 PM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;seriously.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kevin your now champion of being gay. d'oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohk forget that. anyway, my school starts in about a month. &amp;amp;singapore is soooooo small. even with a car you wouldnt know where to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mm speaking of gay, everyone should seriously go catch &lt;u&gt;'i now pronounce you chuck and larry'.&lt;/u&gt; its soooooo hilarious! &amp;amp;worth every cent of my 9dollars and fricking 50cents. yeh watching a movie is so fucking pricey now a days, you have to catch a good one to make good use of your moneehh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you wanna know something else. i really hate blogging now. its so fucking gay. &amp;amp;it makes you a faggot for reading this too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-2600520435545552769?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/2600520435545552769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=2600520435545552769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2600520435545552769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2600520435545552769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/09/thehardestpartisshiningbackatyou.html' title='thehardestpartisshiningbackatyou'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-9173832784423610561</id><published>2007-09-13T22:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T23:26:53.454+08:00</updated><title type='text'>you'renotalone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;my pen is the barrel of a gun. remind me which side you should be on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-9173832784423610561?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/9173832784423610561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=9173832784423610561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/9173832784423610561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/9173832784423610561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/09/yourenotalone.html' title='you&apos;renotalone'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-6035588139412022816</id><published>2007-09-10T16:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T16:38:12.629+08:00</updated><title type='text'>morethaniadmit</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;surrender&lt;/em&gt; every word, every thought, every sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;surrender&lt;/em&gt; every touch, every smile, every frown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;surrender&lt;/em&gt; all the pain we've endured until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;surrender&lt;/em&gt; all the hope that i lost you have found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;surrender yourself to me&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-6035588139412022816?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/6035588139412022816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=6035588139412022816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/6035588139412022816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/6035588139412022816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/09/takethepainoutoflove.html' title='morethaniadmit'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-2030604572471329347</id><published>2007-09-07T00:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T01:24:05.887+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SPONSORME</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHA OHK SO HEAR ME OUT&lt;/strong&gt;. im kinda &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;happy&lt;/span&gt; today, even tho i've been sitting on my sofa for i think more than 7 hrs. HAHA yeh i'm a hardcore couch potato. anyways. i've been visiting random people's blog, and i have been wondering, WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THE WISHLIST? HAHA, ohk, no offence, but its kinda pathetic. ohk not, it IS pathetic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********WISH(list)***********************************(&lt;- must decorate abit)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- new handphone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- new handphone parts (eg, battery....)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- new handphone strap&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- new jewels to paste on my handphone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- stickers to paste my my handphone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- NEW RING TONE FOR MY HANDPHONE(HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;- ohk la basically my whole life revolves around my handphone. &lt;strong&gt;WITHOUT MY HANDPHONE, I'D CEASE TO EXIST. D'OHHH.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohk really, that was just an example, im just trying to exaggerate on how irritating it is to read it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aerosmith's jaded is on MTV now, and his mouth is so fricking large i think we can fit 2 full sized &lt;strong&gt;elephants&lt;/strong&gt; in there. seriously.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohk, back to the topic? seriously, i hate it when people blog about asking for &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;SPONSORS.&lt;/span&gt; ohk, example??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;' wahlau, S.H.E concert tomollow leh, but the ticket expensive lehh, like $1345 lor, anyone wanna sponsor me? *insert cutesy face here*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;' ZOMG, that dolcheeee and cabana panty(dolce &amp; gabbana) nice leh! fake but still expensive! no money lors.. wahlau someone sponsor me can not?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;' my dogs been suffering from serious ringworm, i have no time and no money to bring him to the vet, someone please sponsor me *puts ad up*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;OHK? if i carry on, it'll never end, trust me. sigh, im so fricking bored... but whats with the sponsors? apparently you think whoever reads your blog will 'sponsor you/provide you with cash/throw money in your face so you can get whatever you want'? wahlau your not a true singaporean or what? so sad.. so sad......... haha, funny. gees. can you tell how bored i am?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;anyway, hello weiling &amp; feli. i havent seen you guys in ages. weiling i know you still stunted &amp;amp;short &amp;amp;hobbit-like. &lt;u&gt;YOU NEED PEOPLE SPONSOR YOU FOOD NOT?&lt;/u&gt; i sponsor you i sponsor you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-2030604572471329347?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/2030604572471329347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=2030604572471329347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2030604572471329347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2030604572471329347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/09/sponsorme.html' title='SPONSORME'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-2298022488603374084</id><published>2007-09-04T02:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T14:51:32.697+08:00</updated><title type='text'>greenlaserpointerlehhhhhh</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OHKKK OHKKKK. no more sad\depressing\make-you-wanna-stab-yourself-then-throw-yourself-down-23432198547034-fricking-stories post. mm. anyways. i've been out with my family! and watching over stinkin' kids. good, cause i can keep my mind off things, bad cause.. sometimes kids just make you wanna poke yourself with a giant fork.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mm, what else? life sucks. holidays are here and life still sucks! maybe its because of some sort of harrassment im getting. kevin would know wouldnt you! haha! aiya its 304am you know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;im tired &amp;amp;im hungry. no kevin im not goona blog about my grandma not buying me sweeeeeets........................................... FINE LA I PUTTTTT. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;wahlau she go NTUC buy isaac all the sweets&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;kaypeebaby says:&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;never buy for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Kevin said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hahaha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;u how old sia!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;cant believe u said that!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Kevin said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LOL&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt; kaypeebaby said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hahahaa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WAHLAU I ALSO WANT RIGHT&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;hairrpppppppeeeeeeeyyy? LOL think im getting abit retarded..&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:09 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;fall off a plane wont die easily???&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:09 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hahaha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:09 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TEO YI RU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;kaypeebaby says (3:09 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LOL&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (3:09 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HHAHAHAHAHAAHHAA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (3:10 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i mean like..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (3:10 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HAHA I DUNNO LA. I NEVER SIT AEROPLANE BEFORE RIGHTTTTTT...........&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:10 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;eh!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:10 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;fall off a plane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Kevin says (3:10 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:10 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;even jump off a 20story building also sure die&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Kevin says (3:10 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hahaha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:10 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;wa...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (3:10 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;got glass what the window HOW TO FALL OUT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Kevin says (3:11 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hahaha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:11 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;that part i exaggerated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Kevin says (3:11 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:11 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;heheheh&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (3:11 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HAHAHAHA WAHLAU, OF COURSE SURE DIE RIGHT KEVINNNNN......&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (3:12 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;next time i stuff you under the chair.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Kevin says (3:12 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;under what chair?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:12 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Kevin says (3:12 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;u ok?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:12 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i think when u get sleepy u start saying strange stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Kevin says (3:12 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hahaha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:12 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;oh bridget bridget....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:12 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (3:12 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HAHA shutup!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (3:13 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i thought of it, then i just said it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Kevin says (3:13 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hahahaha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:13 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;u dont do that in the day time!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (3:13 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (3:13 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HAHAHA IM HUNGRY LA OHKKKKK&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think my new found hobby, is to extract parts of conversations from messenger and start pasting it everywhere for people to read. quite fun. ohk, very fun, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. especially when creepy people say dumb things. anyway, kevin claims that the green laser pointer can burn balloons, which means can make your skin chao ta, or your hair chao ta, or kp's fur chao ta, or kevins head chao ta, oh wait wait cannot.. too big. haha sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when the hours move to minutes and im seconds away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-2298022488603374084?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/2298022488603374084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=2298022488603374084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2298022488603374084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2298022488603374084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/09/greenlaserpointerlehhhhhh.html' title='greenlaserpointerlehhhhhh'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-2138490040113911569</id><published>2007-08-30T01:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T02:34:55.374+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ifyouhavetoletitgo,walkaway</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ever come a time where everything just seem to slip out of your grasp? like the things you knew you had, you just somehow let it ran away? &amp;you didnt even get a chance to say goodbye to it all. and you were obviously not prepared for it either. maybe its because &lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;you love it too much you cant seem to let go&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohk someone tell me to stop, please. you know, dont know how someone can feel so sad with such good company. feels like i fell into something i cant get myself out from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but someone tell me, how come &lt;strong&gt;people always go, and come back&lt;/strong&gt;? i mean, going is fine. we all just learn to deal with it over and over, you know? like a part and parcel of helping us grow up. but when people come back, and then go off again. its just too much to take.. right? because letting go once was already so hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this sucks. things always doesnt go the way i planned it! most of the time it turns out better, but sometimes shit just spills all over. im in the latter. fuck, do i sound pathetic? i have to stop this seriously. i just need to keep telling myself that &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;im a happy camper&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, im a happy camper, im a happy camper, im a happy camper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but we know we have to wait, as the days go on and the places fade away to dirt and to dust, &lt;u&gt;it all fades away&lt;/u&gt;. &lt;em&gt;&amp;amp;the waiting is the hardest thing to take&lt;/em&gt;, in a moment more before we break. so if you have to let it go, &amp;these dreams keep you awake, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;just walk away&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohk anyway, here is an extract of one of my daily conversations with kevin&amp;amp;zm. but zm wasnt talking because he was D.O.T.A-ing(dogs on the air!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (1:57 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ahhaha shit&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (1:57 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i wanted to type the word 'shit' right&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (1:57 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;den i typed 'why'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;kaypeebaby says (1:58 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HAHA EH I JUST REMEMBERED WHAT I DREAMT OF LAST NIGHT KEVIN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (1:58 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I TELL YOU I TELL YOU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Kevin says (1:58 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (1:58 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;what???&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (1:58 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HAHAHAA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (1:58 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i dreamt that i was a spy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (1:58 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and i had a really cool outfit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;kaypeebaby says (1:58 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and. i was a spy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Kevin says (1:58 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;omg...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Kevin says (1:58 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;are u serious?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (1:58 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hahaha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (1:59 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;YAAAAA!!!!!! and i was sneaking into libraries. i dunno why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;kaypeebaby says (1:59 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and i think i was running away from something&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (1:59 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;but im supposed to be a spy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (1:59 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hahah&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (1:59 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;why spy sia..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (1:59 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hahaha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (1:59 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;u have a wide imagination&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin says (1:59 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;kaypeebaby says (2:00 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;AHAHHAA! no it was a dream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;kaypeebaby says (2:00 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;so i think it was an email from a ghost.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kaypeebaby says (2:00 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;maybe my future, is to be a spy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ming says (2:00 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LOl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;ming says (2:00 AM):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WTH&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AHHAHA ohk. i dont know why i dream funny. but &lt;strong&gt;ziming&lt;/strong&gt; has weird dreams too. he dreamt he beat someone up for &lt;strong&gt;YS&lt;/strong&gt;. HAHA. ohk i shant say who. &lt;strong&gt;KEVIN&lt;/strong&gt; KNOWS &lt;strong&gt;KEVIN&lt;/strong&gt; KNOWS. ohk fine so his dream was cooler than mine! anyway, word of the day, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;ming says (2:09 AM):&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;bitch&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cause you shine brighter, than anyone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-2138490040113911569?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/2138490040113911569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=2138490040113911569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2138490040113911569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2138490040113911569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/08/ifyouhavetoletitgowalkaway.html' title='ifyouhavetoletitgo,walkaway'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-3415403155177006518</id><published>2007-08-25T16:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T18:00:25.939+08:00</updated><title type='text'>peoplealwaysleave</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n319/kaypeebaby/IMG_0108.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;i wanted to write something. and then i forgot. then i thought about pokkap. mm. thats a drink by the way. is this what happens when people get depressed? probably? mental blocks, mood swings. kinda sounds like &lt;em&gt;concurrent-period-syndrome&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;seriously, have you ever felt like, you have something to say to someone, but the words just wont slip. or like you just wanna let it all out, but you cant, because your kinda afraid of the outcome? i used to be a champion in keeping emotions hidden. but i dont know whats gotten into me these few days. i think i need some sort of medication.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think life &lt;strong&gt;sucks&lt;/strong&gt;. or maybe just mine. well, i really dont wanna be a really pathetic person sitting on my stupid couch moping and being a really whiny brat, but it feels like crap and i have to let it go somehow really, so pardon me. i just realised i used the word 'really' quite often, ohk. well, sucks because, &lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;we always want more than what we bargained for&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/u&gt; ohk now i forgot what i wanted to say, again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i think i have memory retardation. seriously? like i can forget things in an instant. maybe it was because i bumped my head really hard on a brick wall when i was younger. ohk i was joking. i do NOT run into walls.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life's hard. i think i need some sort of guide. its like this really huge maze(like the one in harry potter,only &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;10000&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; times bigger), and if you dont find your way, you die(&lt;em&gt;literally&lt;/em&gt;), because sometimes, no one can save you. and &lt;u&gt;you have to save yourself.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i dont feel like doing this anymore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, to my &lt;u&gt;one-and-only becca&lt;/u&gt;, i know wayniq just left. &amp;sometimes we cant help what happens. well, &lt;strong&gt;people always leave&lt;/strong&gt;, and i know that your strong. &amp;amp;i havent seen you cry since. but sometimes we dont have to pretend we're all happy. maybe sometimes its better to let it all out. you know? just know that, if that wall that holds you up so steady decides to break some day, and if you have to cry it all out, i promise i'll be there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why dont you hear me when im calling out to you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-3415403155177006518?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/3415403155177006518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=3415403155177006518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3415403155177006518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3415403155177006518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/08/peoplealwaysleave.html' title='peoplealwaysleave'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-4815845691613839708</id><published>2007-08-24T18:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T18:59:54.358+08:00</updated><title type='text'>helloalone</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n319/kaypeebaby/rffr.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n319/kaypeebaby/P1010123-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;you're sorely missed!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;maybe we're not doing as good as we think we are&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-4815845691613839708?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/4815845691613839708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=4815845691613839708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4815845691613839708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4815845691613839708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/08/helloalone.html' title='helloalone'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-1973928189323636816</id><published>2007-08-20T00:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T15:40:47.821+08:00</updated><title type='text'>notforalltheloveintheworld</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate exams.&lt;u&gt;period.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i royally screwed my BMGT &amp; macro paper. help someone? think besides not really studying, this is all KEVINS FAULT. HAHA! ohk maybe like 2% mine, 98% his. fair ohk, i never blame all on you. HAHA! anyway, i really miss my friends): seems like forever since we last met! TMRWS MY LAST PAPER AND WE'D BETTER MEET UP IN 234987950 SECONDS!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, i think i been out, practically EVERY night. except yesterdays. basically just driving around, because we have absolutely nooooothing to do! (ESP KEVIN OHK) since like LAST WEEK I THINK? and because im such a nice/accommodating friend, i think i accompanied him everyday, DESPITE ME HAVING EXAMS THE NEXT DAY OHK. HAHA. &amp;amp;i think when you go back to US, i'll be so crushed &amp;bored mostly, cause you wont be here to drive me around anymore!): i dont want thursday to come! imagine the next time i see you would be.. in 2009! i'll miss you &lt;u&gt;extra DEARRRRLYYY&lt;/u&gt; KEVIN WAYNE FUNG! &amp;amp;after you leave, YS will leave, then i'll have no one to disturb anymore! makes me sad most of the time, but i try not to think of it! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so put me in your heart &amp;go see everything, then come back to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;feels rather fast huh, time? like we're all in a race, and if time catches up to you, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;you lose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. you lose the time you could have spent with someone you love. you lose the connection that rings everyone so close. you lose time. or rather, time you could have spent doing something more meaningful. besides studying &amp;doing your parents proud. besides getting into the best university &amp;getting the best grades &amp;amp;getting the highest paying job.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all that aside, isnt our youth the period of time to just let it all go, have fun &amp;amp;understand what life is about. our thoughts mature and we finally understand how some people have the ability to break you, and others the power to love you. understanding that your not in life alone, and that &lt;u&gt;people alre always there to blanket your fall, even if you never meant them to.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and life suprises you. &lt;em&gt;things always come to you when you least expect them to&lt;/em&gt;. like they say, when one door closes, two others open. and its true, because you'll never know when someone will show up at your doorstep and glue the pieces back together. &lt;strong&gt;you'll never know when you'll meet the most familiar face&lt;/strong&gt; you've never really come to know, and realise that he's the one who gathered all your dreams in when they all blew away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life has something installed for all of us. but if it stayed this way forever, i will never again cry or complain or whine, &lt;u&gt;because &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; are here.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe we're better off this way&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-1973928189323636816?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/1973928189323636816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=1973928189323636816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/1973928189323636816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/1973928189323636816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/08/notforalltheloveintheworld.html' title='notforalltheloveintheworld'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-5640873144351926499</id><published>2007-08-18T12:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-18T18:56:08.129+08:00</updated><title type='text'>absencemakestheheartgrowfonder?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;if there was a time&amp;space between something, is it said that its never gonna work out? or does distance really drift people apart? sometimes i think it does. but sometimes im just trying really hard to convince myself it doesnt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im trying to convince myself that when two people meet each other after not seeing each other for an extra long period, the distance and the void just disappears. &amp;amp;hope it seems like it was only yesterday you were back &amp;gone, only yesterday our fingers locked and our lips met. &amp;amp;my heart would be screaming out to you all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but does distance really matter? have you ever felt that feeling, like not knowing someone who stays under the same roof as you. knowing that your physically so close but your hearts just dont connect. and its a shame really. because we'll never know when they'll go away. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;move a little closer, hold me tighter, i'll stay if your gonna keep me in line.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-5640873144351926499?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/5640873144351926499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=5640873144351926499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5640873144351926499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5640873144351926499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/08/absencemakestheheartgrowfonder.html' title='absencemakestheheartgrowfonder?'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-4356668363680282545</id><published>2007-08-15T00:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T01:13:36.017+08:00</updated><title type='text'>carefuloryou'llhurtyourself</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;theres nothing you can say, nothing you can do. theres nothing in between, but its not your fault. theres nothing left to face, nothing left to lose. nothing takes your place. theres nothing left to prove, theres nothing i wont do. theres nothing like the pain, i feel for you. theres nothing left to hide, nothing left to feel, because i am always here. but when they say, you're not that strong, you're not that weak, its not your fault. &amp;amp;when you climb, up to your hill, up to your place, i hope you're well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anything else but the truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-4356668363680282545?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/4356668363680282545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=4356668363680282545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4356668363680282545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4356668363680282545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/08/carefuloryoullhurtyourself.html' title='carefuloryou&apos;llhurtyourself'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-7524428701342258173</id><published>2007-08-12T14:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T23:26:12.431+08:00</updated><title type='text'>legal&amp;loved</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohk so besides me being 18 and still fricking retarded like i always am. doesnt really feel much different. because lets face it, i already claimed myself legal when i drank my first cup of alcohol &amp;entered fricking overaged parties with my sisters IC. however, i did have an extra special birthday, with all my favourtie people around me&amp;amp; EPL starting again, how much better can it get. well to me, its way more than what i have bargained for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n319/kaypeebaby/c.jpg" border="0" /&gt; krunk was expected to be shitty i guess? but it wasnt that bad la. people were talking abt it as if someone will eat 12 dozen eggs and massive-ly fart there la. but great friends make everything better! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;well, friends+rush hour 3+tauhuay+presents = gnarly 18.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&amp;i love everyone who wished me. dez, sernzhi, cheryl, jeremy, sean, katie, chiwawa, carm, kevin, yonnshen, zm, adi, sab, ha, la, WELING&amp;amp;FELI!(LOLOLOL very important) TABS(LOL i almost forgot)&amp; BECCA! ehh got lot more, but these people are more important.lol.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;anyway, mayb you've been wondering what i've been doing these past few days. like 4 days straight? i've been all around singapore. literally. &amp;amp;perhaps getting lost in sengkang too.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;well.. the plan on friday was home club, causeeeeeeeeeeeee, kenneth wong was there&amp; he asked me to go. but i guess plans changed! and the rest wanted to go to zouk instead. the rest meaning dez sherbear sean. cheryl was pretty pissed i guess cause she was extra reluctant to go. then when we were outside zouk, we(or mayb me) had major second thoughts of gng in. cause it was already like 1? and it would be super not worth it. the rest went into zouk eventually, and i met YS&amp;amp;the rest. kevin was extra wasted, he was almost dead. ohk anyway, home was full of weird people&amp; we didnt stay long. lucky i had free entry if not i would have killed myself. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;met carm &amp;amp; kev yesterday. my babe made me this card and it was OOOO soo sweet&amp; i love you for that! shit i almost cried when i read it, seriously. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;amp;if someone tries to hurt you i promise i'll be there for you. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;she was pretty depressed(i am not allowed to use the word 'emo' according to kevin)&amp; i feel bad because it seems like i cant do anything about it. i think i have extra cravings for ice (s)cream. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;carm went off to meet DM &amp;amp;i accompanied kevin, because.. he had nothing to do. HAHA. we went to holland V to eat&amp; met zm. bloody idiot stole his mom's car keys. boys being boys, driving illeaglly = better than sex. we went to pick herrman&amp;amp;yonnshen and went to sengkeng to get kevins passport. it was damn funny because we got fricking lost in fricking godforbidden sengkang. kevin lives there but he doesnt know how to get around, how smart. herrman and zm are damn 'responsible' or so to say(WHILE DRIVING I MEAN),&amp;kevin and YS dont really care so it was like a war in the fricking car.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;anyway i have to start mugging because my exams are in less than a week and i have to squeeze one whole semesters work into my head.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&amp;amp;you could hold me, only because you can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-7524428701342258173?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/7524428701342258173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=7524428701342258173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7524428701342258173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7524428701342258173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/08/legal.html' title='legal&amp;loved'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-8105650800758102488</id><published>2007-08-07T18:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T19:13:02.218+08:00</updated><title type='text'>heartsthatdontreallycare</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel so stuck. like the winds so strong it could blow me away but my feet are rooted to the goddamn earth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ever had that moment, when your caught in your own tangled web? like you know you weaved it but you have no clue how to get out of it. yeh &amp;amp;im completely mystified.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its like, you try very hard to try and please everyone around you, and you try to accomodate to everyones thoughts. but still no ones happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ever wanted everything to turn out so smoothly and so perfect? but everytime you get some sort of stable ground people just shove and push and try to pull the rug under your feet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its hard for things to fall and fit in all the right place. like that glimpse of what it'll be like to have everything so planned out and flawless is just a lie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i always wondered, like if you have your life planned out on the table, with all the plates and utensils matching every table cloth and every napkin, no hair out of line, then life would be a bore. because life is supposed to be full of surprises, aint it not?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but its so ironic because arent we already destined for one life?! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like when someone dies, its said that its their fate. right? so our lives are really planned already. this sucks, im confusing myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;i wandered through fiction to look for the truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-8105650800758102488?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/8105650800758102488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=8105650800758102488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8105650800758102488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8105650800758102488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/08/heartsthatdontreallycare.html' title='heartsthatdontreallycare'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-5670483317584130835</id><published>2007-08-06T14:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T15:05:43.873+08:00</updated><title type='text'>borrowed&amp;burnt</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've always wanted to write something that meant something to someone. something that will make a great impact on someone. something that will hit you right smack center of the face and make you realise. but all that i've been doing is being an emo slut. seriously sounds rather pathetic to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a happier note, or besides me being a rather depressed asshole, its august again and im sunburnt. seriously very very major sunburnt. from me sleeping for only 2 hrs in 2 days and waking up the next SUNday at fricking unearthly 6am for a whole day of soccer under the humongo sun. now i think i know why they call sunday sunday. someone should seriously put a really humongo blanket over the humongo sun. (humongo = humongous) O, &amp;fyi, man utd owwwwwned chelsea yesterday. im happy. i think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am i really? sometimes..i think i am. i hope that i am. &amp;amp;sometimes its just really hard to believe so. well, i can always pretend that i am. and no one else will know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;usually, when somethings broken, people will try to put the pieces back together. repair it and pretend it'll all heal. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but dont you think you'll get tired of pretending to see that it will all really heal? too tired of pretending that whats broken can always be fixed &amp;that its never too late to make amends? &amp;amp;gradually, even if you dont want it too, the broken pieces just fall out and will never fit perfectly like when it was first found&amp;un-scarred. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe its just too much of anymore worth. because you know you can never go back to what was. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but do you think people can see past all of it? like all the broken lines and heartaches and missing pieces? maybe sometimes all we need is just a new one. maybe sometimes all we need is &lt;strong&gt;a new hand to hold&amp;amp; a more understanding heart.&lt;/strong&gt; someone who you know will put the 't' back in 'trust' &amp;amp; put 'v' in between the letters 'li' and 'e' in 'lie'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe sometimes all we need to do is erase the past and forget it all ever happened and watch whats coming for you. because people change all the time. and if i had a choice, i'd rather know what people are now than try and argue that the person that they were before is always gonna come back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've got my finger on your pulse and im waiting for your heart to speed up and start racing with ours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-5670483317584130835?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/5670483317584130835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=5670483317584130835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5670483317584130835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5670483317584130835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/08/borrowed.html' title='borrowed&amp;burnt'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-3835527886143771757</id><published>2007-08-02T13:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T18:29:33.719+08:00</updated><title type='text'>adeepershadeofblue</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd like to sit and watch, as cars pass me by on the highway. &amp; i'm listening to all my favourite tunes. i can see the sky &amp;amp; there are lesser buildings, lesser traffic &amp; abundant trees. i can see the ocean, so peaceful and so steady. i could wind down the window and the light breeze could run cross my cheeks and through my hair. everything will feel so different, and so easy. feels like i can do anything. &amp;amp; all my worries and troubles just disappeared out the back door, and all that stood was me against nothing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd stand on a patch of grass underneath an oak tree and i'd hope to god i'd figure out whats wrong. he'd answer me &amp; all who cared would be standing beside me, hand in hand, and then i'll know that if i fell, it wouldnt hurt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;sometimes i feel incredibly disconnected, really uncomfortable in my own skin. like i dont fit into this world. like i was born at the wrong time and i dont belong. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;if&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes, it just feels so hard. it feels like someones strangling life out of me. and i could retaliate, but im not doing anything. i need things to slow down. i need to feel like im a kid again. &amp; if i do something wrong, you could hit me on the hand and i'd get a second chance. i could get chance after chance and no one would complain or scold me or ignore me, because im just a kid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; there will come a day, when i will be able to say, nevermind the pain and all the aggravation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im wanting more&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-3835527886143771757?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/3835527886143771757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=3835527886143771757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3835527886143771757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3835527886143771757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/08/adeepershadeofblue.html' title='adeepershadeofblue'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-3897792549051158048</id><published>2007-07-30T17:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T17:34:59.781+08:00</updated><title type='text'>iamthemovie</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n319/kaypeebaby/5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n319/kaypeebaby/2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n319/kaypeebaby/3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n319/kaypeebaby/4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when you drop a glass or a plate to the ground it makes a loud crashing sound. when a window shatters, a table leg breaks, or when a picture falls off the wall it makes a noise. but as for your heart, when that breaks, &lt;strong&gt;its completely silent&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you would think as it's so important it would make the loudest noise in the whole world, or even some sort of ceremonious sound like the crashing of cymbals or the ringing of a bell. but its silent and you almost wish there was a noise to distract you from the pain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if there is a noise, its internal. it screams and no one can hear it but you. it screams so loud you ears ring and your head aches. it thrashes around in you chest like a great white shark caught in the sea. that's what it looks like and that's what it sounds like, thrashing, panicking, trapped. like a prisoner to its own emotions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but that's the thing about love - &lt;strong&gt;no one is untouchable&lt;/strong&gt;. it's as wild as that, as raw as an open flesh wound exposed to salty water, but when it actually breaks, its silent. you're just screaming on the inside and no one can hear it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;say hello&amp;amp;goodbye because nothing is forever&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-3897792549051158048?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/3897792549051158048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=3897792549051158048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3897792549051158048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3897792549051158048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/iamthemovie.html' title='iamthemovie'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-6113490586548026777</id><published>2007-07-27T00:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T00:49:13.309+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ifyoucouldseemenow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friends come in all differnt shapes and sizes, we all know that. so why should imgainary friends be any different? &lt;strong&gt;the important thing is&lt;/strong&gt; not what we look like, but &lt;strong&gt;the roles we play in your bestfriends life&lt;/strong&gt;. friends choose certain friends because thats the kind of company they are looking for at that specific time. not because their the correct height, age or have the right hair colour. its not always the case but often theres a reason why. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but if you had one, and if you could see one, doesnt mean you could see them all. you have the ability to see them, but as &lt;strong&gt;humans only use 10% of the brain&lt;/strong&gt;, you wouldnt believe the other abilities there are. there are so many other wonderful things that eyes could see if they really focuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lifes kind of like a painting. a really bizarre abstract painting&lt;/strong&gt;.you could look at it and think that it is all a blur and you can continue living your life thinking that all it is is a blur. but if you really look at it, really see it, focus on it and use your imagination, &lt;strong&gt;life can become so much more&lt;/strong&gt;. that painting could be of the sea, the sky, people, buildings, a butterfly on a flower or anything except the blur you were once convinced it was.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;imaginary/ invisible friends, call them what you like. maybe you believe in them. maybe you dont. the point is, its not important. like most people who do truly great work, they dont exist to be talked about and praised. they exist to serve the needs of those who need us. maybe they dont exist at all. maybe they're just figments of peoples imaginations. maybe its just pure coincidence that children of two who can barely speak, all decide to start making friends with people only adults cant see. maybe all those doctors and pyschotherapists are right to suggest that they are merely developing their imagination.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or humour me for a second. is there possibly another explaination that you havent thought about entirely? the possibility that they DO exist. that they are here to help and assist those who need them, who believe in believing and who can therefore see them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i think that theres a silver lining to every cloud&lt;/strong&gt;. and if their better friends than normal friends, if their better than pizza, better than olives, better than fridays and better than spinning, then having one would be the biggest silver lining of all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll give you my hand if you reach out and grab it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-6113490586548026777?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/6113490586548026777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=6113490586548026777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/6113490586548026777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/6113490586548026777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/ifyoucouldseemenow-friends-come-in-all.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-743292198511086464</id><published>2007-07-25T23:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T01:36:09.131+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;beneaththemedicinetree&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;sometimes i feel like... im moving in slow motion. like im moving in slow motion and everything around me is moving so fast and i just wanna go back... to when things were normal... when i wasnt like that. but i am, so i cant. and im.. just stuck. and theres all this pressure cause you are hovering around me waiting for me to do something or say some thing or flip out or yell or cry some more and im happy to play my part. im happy to say the lines and do what ever it is that im supposed to be doing if it will make everyone feel more comfortable... but i dont know how to do this. i dont know how to be this person. i dont know who this person is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;ever heard of romeo and juliet? well everyone thinks its brilliant. well, i think juliet was an idiot. for one thing, she falls for the one guy she knows she cant have... everyone thinks its so romantic: romeo and juliet, true love... how sad. if juliet was stupid enough to fall for the enemy, drink a bottle of poison, and go to sleep in a mausoleum, then she deserved everything she got. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;but someone once explained to me that when fate comes into play, choice sometimes goes out the window. maybe romeo and juliet were fated to be together, but just for a while, and then their time passed. if they could have known that beforehand, maybe it all would have been okay. I told that someone that when i was grown up, id take fate into my own hands. i wouldnt let some guy drag me down. that person said that id be lucky if i ever had that kind of passion with someone, and if i did, we would be together forever. even now, i believe that for the most part, love is about choices. its about putting down the poison and the dagger and making your own happy ending... most of the time. and sometimes, despite all your best intentions, fate wins anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;amp;i'm leaving through the window&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-743292198511086464?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/743292198511086464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=743292198511086464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/743292198511086464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/743292198511086464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/beneaththemedicinetree-sometimes-i-feel.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-9119189925733179982</id><published>2007-07-23T21:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T21:56:27.453+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;whereyourtreasureis,therewillyourheartbealso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im like totally psyched about the realease of harry potter &amp; the deathly hallows! i've been practically deliberately spoiling my eyesight ever since i got my filthy hands on that book. honestly its extremely hard to put it down, let alone, have your eyes off it! know that i kinda love&amp;amp;hate spoilers at the same time! haha! like i said 'everybody wants to know the ending of a great story' and meaning, GREAT BEYOND GREAT&amp;AWESOME! (DISCLAIMER: if you dont wanna know the ending, dont read the next line lar! DONT SAY I NEVER WARNED YOU,MEOOWWWW!) its kinda sad that snape&amp;amp;moody&amp;dobby had to die tho, but, HAHA i dont really care, as long as nothing happened to ron&amp;amp;harry! and its kinda funny that voldemort died with just one spell. kinda ironic, like after everything(including almost dying). well to think that i couldnt put the damn book down says alot right? AIYA JUST GO READ IT CAN.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, yanno on sunday, after i did my part on ze management project, i like totally felt a great senze of accomplishment! so i totally took ze whole day off watching OTHS3 again.(HAHA NOW IM TALKING LIKE FLEUR) ohk.... shutup. anyway, i've been wondering how i have suddenly such great stamina glue-ing my ass to the sofa all day long. even if its just bumming around. but i just feel so lazy, yanno? yanno feli yanno yanno yanno? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;i wanna let you in on a secret. after so many months of schooling in ngeeann(yes i study there gombers) i feel like..i've learnt rather nothing. and i dont know what i've been doing in school. i sit in the atrium, and watch people from different courses stride past me, then it struck me. i think poly=mass number of people attending school who are completely clueless about what their doing. there are 4 types of people within these creatures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are the guys just come to see what they cannot touch(rather pathetic actually), girls who overdress just for school(errr.. wonder how zey do it every morning, alot of covering em hideous face up with piles and piles of make up.) then there are people like me&amp;amp;felicia, who come to school dressing like we're going to the wet market to get some 1kg of sotong and prawns. basically to us, school=home! then there arre nargles, errr. mm. dont wanna get into that, basically the rest of them fried chicken wings.(i dont know but 'fried chicken wings' keep coming to my head leh). aiya i dont know, i dont get school. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, i lovvve one tree hill and S5 is coming up just after the new year, so i-cannot-wait! *jumps-for-frickkkin-joy*(yeah right).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" you know, it's been said that we just don't recognise the significant moments of our lives while they're happening. we grow complacent with things or ideas or people, and we take them for granted. and it's usually not until that thing is about to be taken away from you that you've realised how wrong you've been, that &lt;strong&gt;you realised how much you need it, how much you love it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you ever heard of the expression '&lt;strong&gt;the best things in life are free&lt;/strong&gt;'. well, that expression is true. every once in awhile, people step up, they rise above themselves. sometimes they surprise you and sometimes they fall short. life's funny sometimes. it can push pretty hard, but if you look close enough, you can find hope in words, in the bars of the song, in the eyes of someone you love. and if you're lucky, &lt;strong&gt;if you're the luckiest person on this entire planet, the person you love decides to love you back. "&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-9119189925733179982?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/9119189925733179982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=9119189925733179982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/9119189925733179982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/9119189925733179982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/whereyourtreasureistherewillyourheartbe.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-463328811787449083</id><published>2007-07-22T18:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-22T18:53:33.340+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;pointsunderneath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i am a hostage to my own humanity, self detained and forced to live in this mess i've made &lt;strong&gt;and all i'm asking is for you to do what you can with me&lt;/strong&gt;, but I can't ask you to give what you already gave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when the world stood and laughed, poked, proded and taunted. i knew it was up to us to prove them wrong. but silly me, thinking it'd all work out. so isn't it funny how words can ruin everything. when things you shove away finally break free. the people you know you'll hurt, the necessary evil they call it, and you walk away because things might not go the way you want. what if the one person you walked away from never comes back, what then? would you risk it all by letting go? but if you could see me now, you'll see that there's no hate, just love and the hope that you'd see it. so know that i'm always standing in your doorway, because i'm not going anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to let you in on a secret, i'm not who you think i am, in fact, my disguise is so thin, i'm surprised you haven't seen right through me. i'm the girl of your dreams masquerading as your best friend. and when i finally ripped off this facade, you got scared and ran away again. someone once told me there are two types of girls: the ones you grow out of, and the ones you grow into. i really hope i'm the latter. i may not be the one you love today, but i'll let you go for now, hoping that one day you'll fly back to me because i think you're worth the wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its been said that any one person in the world is connected to another by only 6(or less) degree(s) of seperation. 6 billion souls. yet, people seem to be more distant than ever before. but heres the silver lining. because out of that 6 billion hearts waiting to be caught, isn't it funny how even through the distance and loneliness, people manage to find that ONE person, the best friend, soulmate or whatever you call it, that one needle in the haystack of haystacks and actually not wonder how remarkable a feat that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;one giant leap of faith.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-463328811787449083?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/463328811787449083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=463328811787449083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/463328811787449083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/463328811787449083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/pointsunderneath-and-i-am-hostage-to-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-8898449131382970539</id><published>2007-07-21T14:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T15:05:26.015+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;ihopethati'mnotrevealingtoomuch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;isn't it funny how things change. yeah i know, things change all the time, but sometimes, changes are huge, meaning abnormal. and i've never really felt that feeling before, until now. its like something hit me. yanno, like at a point in your life.. there're people whom you thought you'd be close with for the rest of your life, and now, thats not so true anymore. i feel kinda sad actually. i really do. because we can say it, but it isn't anymore.. is it? and its difficult to revert to old ways, cause let's face it.. things aren't even remotely close to the way they were anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when you get to know, like &lt;strong&gt;know&lt;/strong&gt;, people again. its difficult to put into words, because it would be sorely inadequate. you feel happy with the people whom you always hung out with, but then you realised, hey, that wasn't really them. and you feel grateful that they've let you in, into their world and accept you. and that feeling my friends, is the nicest feeling of all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then there are times where you had that endless amount of fun and never wanted it to end. and i guess, its purpose was just that in itself, fun. or during that period of absolute loneliness, when some lose their way, and you felt like you were falling, and by instinct, reached out to people, and surprise, because they break your fall.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i guess that's how things are. people come and go, they change, interests change, and then it happens. before you know it, you've change. and when you realise this change, the sadness comes. all we can do is to not lose the person completely and try like hell to keep those around you now, cause sooner or later.. change happens and all ur left with.. are memories to keep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;give me all your fear, and throw it all away. think about the good things, no matter what they say. we'll take tomorrow baby, one day at a time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-8898449131382970539?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/8898449131382970539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=8898449131382970539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8898449131382970539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8898449131382970539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-hope-that-im-not-revealing-too-much.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-8375487051274891777</id><published>2007-07-18T15:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T16:37:33.653+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;so this is the sound, of 40 hearts pounding.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Rp3NyA7etXI/AAAAAAAAAEc/Pv0oWVZaq_w/s1600-h/edit1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088449413125158258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Rp3NyA7etXI/AAAAAAAAAEc/Pv0oWVZaq_w/s320/edit1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ( i know i've got stubs for fingers): )HAHAHA LOOK AT FELI, SHE LOOKS EXTREMELY HAPPY. HAHAHHAHAHA. FELI RHYMES WITH HAPPY. I REALISED. HAHAHAHAA. say 'thingy' like 'thin-GHHYYYYY' so its like.. thinghey or thingey or thingi. you know thingi? your indian mother's name? yeah just like that. you know, i know that sometimes i speak very smartly and sometimes everything that comes out of my mouth are rubbish. sometimes i wonder if i've got split personalities, like that hero from heroes. yanno? does that make me a hero too? &amp;mmm, i realised that i really laugh at everything. both jonathans from my class say i laugh at everything. i need to stop. but with felicia around i dont know how. have you seen how retarded she can be? or how short weiling is? or how yu song reminds me of cheekiang?!??!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088448601376339298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Rp3NCw7etWI/AAAAAAAAAEU/DTPDQSMYpVU/s320/Photo+338.jpg" border="0" /&gt;or maybe its just me.. maybe im retarded and highly disturbed by wandering spirits. HAHAA nah dont think so. i think maybe kahtien is. yup. definitely him. or her? it maybe? aiya im still trying to figure out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;we're always worried about how our life will turn out. like if we're gonna meet the right people, stay on the correct path.. so we press for answers and inturn we ususally just end up messing up 'what was suppsoed to be'. everyone wants to know the ending of a great story. even if you hadn't already read it through. you keep telling yourself you hate spoilers but you know that a part of you is happy that you know what will become. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;but i figured that if we hadn't cared so much or pressed life for answers and the things we want, most of the time, things will just slowly fall and settle in all the right places. the pieces of the missing puzzle will start to fit and maybe, thats what we call fate.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;'things we lose always have a way of coming back to us, one way or another. even if it is in the most unexpected way.'&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;this welcome is gone, and i've waited long enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-8375487051274891777?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/8375487051274891777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=8375487051274891777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8375487051274891777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8375487051274891777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/so-this-is-sound-of-40-hearts-pounding.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Rp3NyA7etXI/AAAAAAAAAEc/Pv0oWVZaq_w/s72-c/edit1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-5541176741414036534</id><published>2007-07-16T22:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T22:58:09.948+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;of all emotions passion is the one that causes us to commit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are the ink to my paper, where my pen is to my pad. the moral, the very fibre. the whole substance to what i am. you are my reason for being, the meaning of my existance. if it wasn't for you i would never be able to spit this as intense as i do, and the irony is you rely on me as much as i rely on you to inspire me like you do. you provide me the lighter fluid the fuel to my fire. you're my entire supply of gas, the match and igniter. the only way that i'm able to stay so stable is you're the legs to table, if you were to break i'd fall on my face. but i'm always gonna make you feel i don't need you as much as i really need you, so you don't use it to your advantage. but you're essential to me, you're the air i breathe. i believe if you ever leave me i'd probably have no reason to be. you are the word that i'm looking for when im trying to describe how i feel inside, and the right one just wont come out to my mind. you're like the pillow that props me up &amp;amp;the beam that supports me. and no matter now much too much is never enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll make something out of nothing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-5541176741414036534?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/5541176741414036534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=5541176741414036534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5541176741414036534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5541176741414036534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/of-all-emotions-passion-is-one-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-7909031698927137130</id><published>2007-07-11T16:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T18:27:08.315+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;make it all okay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;pain, you just have to ride it out, hope it goes away on its own, hope the wound that caused it heals. there are no solutions, no easy answers, you just breath deep and wait for it to subside. most of the time pain can be managed but sometimes the pain gets you where you least expect it. hits way below the belt and doesn't let up. pain, you just have to fight through, because the truth is you can't outrun it and life always makes more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's something to be said about a glass half full. about knowing when to say when. sometimes all we want is a taste. other times there's no such thing as enough, the glass is bottomless. and all we want, is more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;people so rarely stop to look. its a a shame really, theres so much to see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-7909031698927137130?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/7909031698927137130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=7909031698927137130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7909031698927137130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7909031698927137130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/make-it-all-okay-pain-you-just-have-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-4796124792881531576</id><published>2007-07-10T23:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T16:03:09.116+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;seperate yourself from what compels you to relinquish us. push your way onto me, entirely, stay away from me now. unless your gonna see me out.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do people find it hard to appreciate what they have? rather than lose it and regret it all over again? being an asshole to someone and making them leave you is one thing, but being and asshole to someone and making them leave you and then you coming back into their lives makes you.. a massive asshole with no brains and no future with any girl. ohk, my point is, why cant people be grateful with what they have, and not only when they lose it then realise what was there is not anymore, then sob &amp;mope &amp;amp;amp;weep &amp;whine &amp;amp;give everyone else a living hell. is this some kind of feeling god invented to punish us to make us realise. to make us grateful?(but i know it doesnt work on some people) but sometimes i still dont think it helps! maybe thats why there are kind people and not so kind people.(haha) like some who will stick with you, no matter how shitty you treat them, and those who cannot take shit and walk out of your life. mostly, its not only we turn the kind people to not so kind people and then they'll walk away. thats only when we feel the pinch of that someone leaving. that someone walking away. you watch, as the distance between expand and gradually it just leaves you with emptiness and a broken heart. but, haha, too bad, get over it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stay away from me. really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-4796124792881531576?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/4796124792881531576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=4796124792881531576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4796124792881531576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4796124792881531576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/seperate-yourself-from-what-compels-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-7806918840777107244</id><published>2007-07-08T22:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T16:04:12.215+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;need to get outta here&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i was walking home earlier today, i saw this lady, in a white sundress. and i think she was talking to herself because she was laughing so hard. she scared me. and i walked home damn fast after i saw her. she looked like she was after me. its like one of em nightmares where im being chased by a huge hamster ): OHK AND NO, she wasnt holding a cell to her ear, and NO, there was no earpiece and all that shit. scary how some people's thoughts get to them. i guess she was eitherr..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;1. drunk?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;2. or on her way home from a really nice date (doubt so la, quite ugly + quite old already),&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;3. mentally unsound,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;4. just got hit by a bus and thinks shes in heaven already,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;5. a monster in a human suit,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;6. orrr..... dont know eh cant think of any more possible reasons, unless shes actually a guy of course and thinks she/he has fooled everyone by going out in a dress today, and is just having a sense-of-lame-accomplishment-laugh-home kinda thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;/ignore me please. im thinking too much to be typing straight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cause maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-7806918840777107244?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/7806918840777107244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=7806918840777107244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7806918840777107244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7806918840777107244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/need-to-get-outta-here-when-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-5548410046619956199</id><published>2007-07-06T17:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T18:22:44.064+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;its times like these, we learn to love again.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Ro4Ox0aqs2I/AAAAAAAAAEM/o9xf0yDBy2s/s1600-h/collage1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084017278394741602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Ro4Ox0aqs2I/AAAAAAAAAEM/o9xf0yDBy2s/s320/collage1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;YOUR WONDERING WHATS WITH THE RANDOM PICTURES RIGHTTTTTT. shutup can? thats NPFC^ sounds nice la, but its just ngeeann footballclub. HAHAA LAMEEEE. YOU MUST BE WONDERING WHY ALL MY TEAM MATES ARE AS SHORT AS WEILING. HAHAHA. yehh they are as short as weiling, maybe shorter? dont think so la, weiling already damn short. anyway, that was taken at fico sports hub, fuck, THE CARPET GRASS IS GODLIKKKKKEEEEE. D'OHHHHHHH. aiya but must pay $$ to play la of course, things in SG where got free? I HAVENT COME TO GST AH. BLOODY GOVERNMENT SUCK MONEY, CHEEBEH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Ro4NkEaqs1I/AAAAAAAAAEE/r2pJdg9aiMo/s1600-h/SP_A4390.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084015942659912530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Ro4NkEaqs1I/AAAAAAAAAEE/r2pJdg9aiMo/s320/SP_A4390.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; aiya duwan ah? later i kena jailed. LOOK AT KP IN CAR RIDE. HAHAHA like mountain tortoise. i wanna hugg him! (HAHA I KNOW HIS COLLAR ABIT GAY, BUT HE'S GAY WHAT)OHK, speaking of, i think no team will be as strong as queensway's soccer team 04/05/06. damn now i sound like a bloody fag(I MISSSSSSSSS QUEENSWAY, HHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA[NOOOOOOTTTTT] i just miss soccer with lyeheng and everyone)OHK I STILL SOUND LIKE A FAGGOT. SOMEONE SLAP ME, IM HAVING ONE OF THEM CAL RELAPSES)[fyi, cal=chao ah lian!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Ro4NcUaqs0I/AAAAAAAAAD8/0g7-8zPHK8I/s1600-h/SP_A4380.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084015809515926338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Ro4NcUaqs0I/AAAAAAAAAD8/0g7-8zPHK8I/s320/SP_A4380.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; hahahaha. ohk, enough can. thats my bro and me, tho he's not as half as gay as he looks, he's nice. HAHA NICE CAUSE HE ALWAYS LENDS ME MONEY WHEN IM COMPLETELY BEANLESS. HAHAHAA. not taking advantage alright, thats just the benefits in having siblings! THO THE REST OF MY SIBLINGS ARE FREAKING STINGY CHILLI PEPPERS. sometimes i wanna slap them myself. of course having siblings comes with BOTH pros and cons, well, like sometimes i get irritated cause theres so many fucking people at home to snatch the durians. grrr. haha dont ask me why!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Ro4M9kaqszI/AAAAAAAAAD0/v3KLBM2DWwE/s1600-h/SP_A4414.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084015281234948914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Ro4M9kaqszI/AAAAAAAAAD0/v3KLBM2DWwE/s320/SP_A4414.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;i crashed ernest's lecture just now, and check out what everyones doing, hahah wth? everyones either dota-ing or.. SLEEPING. haha, there was this guy, champion la, watching movie. haha! the poor lecturer was talking to himself. the whole lecture hall was damn noisy, i couldnt even make out what the lecturer was saying. hahah i think the whole class will fail the damn module. good luck to them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the weather is fucking hot, is it not? i felt as if i was melting when i was walking home la. seriously.(LOL SERIOUSLY.COM AH CARMEN) HAHAHA OHK SHUT.... YOU KNOW SOMETHING, I REALISED THAT, the girls in engineering, are usually bloody CALS. HAHA(not you ah carmen/corinne) like when i was in ernest's lecture, there was this girl clad in.... haha dunno white rags or something la, yeehhh rags cause it looks like something i'd clean my cats poop with. i think she used crayons for eyeliner CAUSE IT WAS DAMN THICK. LIKE.... HER WHOLE BLOODY EYELID WAS BLACK. i wonder what kind of crayon could stay on so long. mmmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we are all searching for someone. that special person who will provide us what's missing in our lives. someone who can offer companionship or assistance or security. and sometimes if we search very hard, we can find someone who provides us with all three. yes, we are all searching for someone. and if we can't find them, we can only pray they find us.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;you cry a tear to start a river&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-5548410046619956199?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/5548410046619956199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=5548410046619956199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5548410046619956199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5548410046619956199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/its-times-like-these-we-learn-to-love.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Ro4Ox0aqs2I/AAAAAAAAAEM/o9xf0yDBy2s/s72-c/collage1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-8641033987328422287</id><published>2007-07-04T00:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T19:35:12.459+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;your gonna change the world someday and you dont even know it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fogyZABLWR4"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fogyZABLWR4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;HAHA anyways i found that and now the theme song is basically stuck in my fucking head. anyways, "Vicious" piranhas are really wimps. i got that from YAHOOOO and I THINK IT SOUNDS FUNNY. 'Despite their fearsome reputation, piranhas are wimps that gather in large shoals to protect themselves from predators, scientists said on Monday. Rather than aggressive killers, research shows piranhas are omnivorous scavengers.' HAHA what scientists are trying to tell you is that if you see one, dont run away, try and catch it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;trust is a fragile thing. once earned, it affords us tremendous freedom. but once trust is lost, it can be impossible to recover. of course the truth is, we never know who we can trust. those we're closest to can betray us. and total strangers can come to our rescue. in the end, most people decide to trust only themselves. it really is the simplest way to keep from getting burned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;there are two tragedies in life: one is to lose your heart's desire, the other is to gain it. as we strain to grasp the things we desire, the things we think will make our lives better: money, popularity, fame... we ignore what truly matters -- the simple things: like friendship, family, love. the things we probably already had.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;i cant explain what you cant explain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-8641033987328422287?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/8641033987328422287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=8641033987328422287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8641033987328422287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8641033987328422287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/your-gonna-change-world-someday-and-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-8731253237776953984</id><published>2007-07-02T15:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T00:54:08.459+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;if words could express a thousand meanings, i wonder what can pictures do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoiqcEaqsyI/AAAAAAAAADs/9bj5xXwP8vU/s1600-h/DSC02893-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082499578686255906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoiqcEaqsyI/AAAAAAAAADs/9bj5xXwP8vU/s320/DSC02893-1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;AUTOBOTS, ROLL ON!!&lt;/em&gt; you know something.................... I DO NOT SUCK AT MARIO, YUSONG AND WEILING KEPT LAUGHING AT ME. IM GONNA PRACTISE RIGHT AFTER I POST THIS PIECE OF CRAP. &amp; i think the weather sucks donkeys. THE WEATHER IS WHY IM HOT, HOT. anyway, saturday was damn fulfilling! hhahaha. similarly! i met alot of people. HAHAHA.i think i have this special thing for meeting alot of people. or maybe its because im just so cool and popular. damn, im like a Harry Potter. HAHAHA. OH fuck. i wanna watch transformers again. BECAUSE I REALLY AM MEGATRON, LEADER OF THE DECEPTICONS. AND I WANT TO MEET OPTIMUS PRIME BECAUSE HE IS MY HERO♥ ♥ ♥.(and then i can kill him with my sweet arm blades, not because i want to but because i have to, because according to the wikipedia i(megatron) am 'very powerful and utterly ruthless'.) TRANSFORMERS, MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE. TRANSFORMERS, ROBOTS IN DISGUISE. AUTOBOTS WAGE THEIR BATTLE TO DESTROY THE EVIL FORCES OF THE DECEPTICONS. TRANSFORMERS, MORE THAN MEETS THE EYEEEEE. TRANSFORMERS, ROBOTS IN DISGUISEE. TRANSFORMERS, MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE, TRANSFORMERS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoioI0aqsxI/AAAAAAAAADk/YOt8YNoculU/s1600-h/CIMG1394-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082497048950518546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoioI0aqsxI/AAAAAAAAADk/YOt8YNoculU/s320/CIMG1394-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ok fine somethings telling me to shutup the hell up. but i cant help it! 10 MORE DAYS BEFORE HARRY POTHEADS FIFTH MOVIE OPENS. CAN ANYONE TELL THAT I CANNOT WAITTTTT? no im not gonna recite the Harry Potter theme song, or whatever. &amp;19 MORE DAYS TILL HARRY POTTER &amp;amp; THE DEATHLY HALLOWS IS REALEASED. I THINK 2007 IS THE SHIT BECAUSE ALL THE AWESOME MOVIES AND ...(ive only got awesome moveis alright.) ARE OUT. likee.... TRANSFORMERS TRANSFORMERS TRANSFORMERS TRANSFORMERS TRANSFORMERS HARRY POTTER HARRY POTTER HARRY POTTER HARRY POTTER HARRY POTTER PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN SPIDERMAN SIMPSONS SHREK3 (you can stand under my umbrellaaaa ella ella ey ey ey)(I JUST SAW THAT ON MTV OHK.) i really really neeedssss to watch harry potter. BADLY. OH, for those who i spoiled spiderman&amp;pirates of the caribbean, HAHA CHILL CAUSE IM NOT GONNA SPOIL TRANSFORMERS BECAUSE ITS TOO OVERLY AWESOME AND YOU HAVE TO GO FUCKING WATCH IT. i think im crazy sometimes, i like to watch my favourite shows over&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;over&amp;over&amp;amp;over again. if you know me well enough you'd know! HAHA, like LOTR&amp; harry potter!&amp;amp; troyyyyyyyyyyyyy&amp; TRANSFORMERS&amp;amp; STARWARS!&amp; pearl harbor! damn ohk, i think if i carry on i'll never end this post. HAHA. ohk, anyway, if you were wondering why the random pictures(SO UNLIKE ME BECAUSE IM A BUMMER WHO DOESNT UPLOAD PHOTOS ON HER BLOG), told you SATURDAY was fulfilling right, i was about to get there just that i got a little carried away, HAHA OK VERY CARRIED AWAY. but ok, on saturday, i met carm sab &amp;amp;amp;amp; liane. then we bumped into jeremy &amp; hongwei &amp;amp; ceya &amp; QL &amp;amp; danny &amp; some other random people la but i only know these few can? spent the night at MOS&amp;amp; the pictures are up!but, i think it sucked, i got tipsy over 1 bloody shot, uhhh and it tastes like monkey crap. alright, alright, &amp; you must be wondering whos the indian dude.(you know the one in the white flower print shirt(flower like kt's peesai) who brought his fellow padawans along with him?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoinXEaqsuI/AAAAAAAAADM/KwIIR-JU1mM/s1600-h/CIMG1379-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082496194252026594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoinXEaqsuI/AAAAAAAAADM/KwIIR-JU1mM/s320/CIMG1379-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;INDIAN DUDE=RAM=RESPECT!=$1000.HA HA!(i know he looks like a monkey on drugs but, RESPECT)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont know if i can do this, not until you let go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-8731253237776953984?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/8731253237776953984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=8731253237776953984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8731253237776953984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8731253237776953984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/07/if-words-could-express-thousand.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoiqcEaqsyI/AAAAAAAAADs/9bj5xXwP8vU/s72-c/DSC02893-1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-8248967899278606803</id><published>2007-06-29T16:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T16:40:58.821+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;the future freaks me out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoTCOkaqsqI/AAAAAAAAACs/Uv-2B-B-6a8/s1600-h/25474.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081399835130245794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoTCOkaqsqI/AAAAAAAAACs/Uv-2B-B-6a8/s320/25474.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;you know sometimes all you can do is stand around and watch when shit hits the fan. when you get hurt and stabbed and stomped on? or you watch as your friend gets hurt by someone else and all you can do is say, i wish i was there. its true, i wish i was there, to beat the living crap outta her, but i know it doesnt help much saying it. because i've been there. cause i know you still feel like shit, and theres nothing no one can do about it, except maybe her, but why the fuck do you wanna count on her when all shes put you through is pain and anger? you know you can always lean on us. you know you can always count on us to pick you up when you stumble, but on our part, we dont wanna see you hurt yourself again and again. i know they say, whats a lesson learnt without the lesson? but this lesson has been taught one too many times, and enough is enough, because if you hurt again, i will hurt somebody.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;truth doesnt make a sound.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-8248967899278606803?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/8248967899278606803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=8248967899278606803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8248967899278606803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8248967899278606803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/06/future-freaks-me-out.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoTCOkaqsqI/AAAAAAAAACs/Uv-2B-B-6a8/s72-c/25474.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-8959200617566140865</id><published>2007-06-27T17:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T21:43:08.149+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;the tide that left and never came back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoJo40aqspI/AAAAAAAAACk/XS_IkCOxCmQ/s1600-h/Photo+190-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080738654979797650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoJo40aqspI/AAAAAAAAACk/XS_IkCOxCmQ/s320/Photo+190-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;meet my classmates! i know some of them look stupid.. well, ohk they are stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoJn2kaqsnI/AAAAAAAAACU/V4y_7WURO3w/s1600-h/collage2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080737516813464178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoJn2kaqsnI/AAAAAAAAACU/V4y_7WURO3w/s320/collage2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;to people who feel offended from my previous post............ hah i dont really care actually.. (but i care about you corinne ohk?lol)mm. owells. i realised that my blog looks kinda sad and depressing. maybe because its all dark and black. and red.... anyways, the worst thing about being home alonee.. is that i have to bring mr fats down. &amp; i dont really have the mood to because.. my moronic neighbour is singing her bloody lungs out. thinks she wants the WWW to know she fucking exists. FUNNY THING IS SHE ONLY KNOWS ONE VERSE OF THE FUCKING SONG. and its pissing me off cause she just keeps repeating it over and over. who the hell sings bloody cantonese songs in the middle of the day? HUH HUH HUH. i think if i werent a lazy bum whos too annoyed to care i'd shove a bloody mop up her ass already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;speaking of irritating people.. i hate it when people list all the things they LIKE and do NOT like. like on their friendster page/blog etc. likeeee.. ha ha ha. i'd probably just irritate you by doing the things you do NOT like. like.. if you say. i hate backstabbers then i'll purposely become your friend take a knife and stab you in the back, or maybe the face(literally), maybe you'll look better? the most overuseddddddd phrase on the 'i-hate-you-list's gotta be liars&amp;amp;backstabbers. like hellooooo? say it with me.. &lt;strong&gt;thesaurus&lt;/strong&gt;! i dont get it seriously, i mean, isnt that kinda thing obvious&amp;amp;redundant? unless you say you'd really like a selfish ignorant phony friend then hello can i be your friend?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;ohk. ohk. enough. after all that has happened, i've come to the conclusion that if having things turn out the way you wanted them to is the measure of a successful life, then some would say that i'm a failure. the important thing is not to be bitter over life's disappointments. learn to let go of the past. and recognize that every day won't be sunny, and when you find yourself lost in the darkness and despair remember it's only in the black of night you see the stars. and those stars will lead you back home. so don't be afraid to make mistakes, or stumble and fall, cause most of the time the greatest rewards come from doing the things that scare you the most. maybe you'll get everything you wish for. maybe you'll get more than you ever could have imagined. who knows where life will take you. the road is long and in the end, the journey is the destination.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;IDA scott taylor wrote: do not look back and grieve over the past, for it is gone, and do not be troubled about the future, for it has yet to come. live in the present, and make it so beautiful that it will be worth remembering.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;change comes like a little wind that ruffles the curtains at dawn, and it comes like the stealthy perfume of wildflowers hidden in the grass.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-8959200617566140865?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/8959200617566140865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=8959200617566140865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8959200617566140865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8959200617566140865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/06/tide-that-left-and-never-came-back-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RoJo40aqspI/AAAAAAAAACk/XS_IkCOxCmQ/s72-c/Photo+190-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-5616680107964950641</id><published>2007-06-26T18:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T10:31:33.773+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;and when i see you next we'll make the most of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;THE SONG ON MY BLOG IS NOT WORKINGGGG! IM GONNA CHANGE IT SOON CAUSE I WANT IT TO IRRITATE YOU ASSHOLES WHO FREQUENTLY COME TO MY WEBPAGE. HAHA SUCKERS. dont hate me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i think i talk too much rubbish. like im not serious. at all! and its not that i dont wanna not talk rubbish but prefer not to not talk rubbish but just not like to be serious. feel me? aiya shit i know you dont get me. but anyways. i dont think its hereditary. cause my parents are NOT like that. or at least i dont think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know.. sometimes.. i think that god put me here to play a game, you know like those we play in the arcades, where you open a door then something creepy/ugly/uglyx2/baboon-ass looking pops out and gives you the shock of your life you might die of a heart attack right on the spot. yeah sometimes i feel so. like when i turn around and have my back on the people i love, everyone will turn into fugly looking monsters and try to kill me. maybe i just think too much. or maybe it really is real! so are you a fugly looking monster behind the computer? i hope so cause i wanna take a picture with you as proof to why god cant send me to hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp; i figured why people get so emotional (thats 'emo' in full form for any stupid person out there). i think they just hate themselves/their life so they bitch about it so much so people can pity them and then they can feel good about themselves. though i dont really pity them i laugh at them. might sound mean but.. HAHA DONT YOU THINK ITS FUNNY! QUOTE&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;'-i hate my life, this ish the worst days of mi life ever'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - person shall not be named to respect privacy. HAHAHA do i look like the type of person who respects someone elses privacy anyway? HAHA YES I DO. haha. its funny cause what they do all day long is MOPE MOPE SOB SOB, and when they get home they can blog about their pathetic lives and how they cannot get the person they claim they will forever love. YAY. -.- he dont like you! GET OVER IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; whats with people with blogging about how much thay miss things? like.. I MISSS..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;#1&lt;/strong&gt; my ugly dog, how i wish i can hug him all day long and even when he poops i wish that he poops on my ugly face to cover my hideous being up. ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;#2&lt;/strong&gt; the way things used to be (' those days where we'd spendsthe night talking 'crapsssssss' to each others. teeheee. so miss them hell lots lor... ')&lt;em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;[ classic ]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;#3&lt;/strong&gt; OH MY SECONDARY SCHOOL LIFEEE.&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;[ you could always have failed your exams and relive sec school days till your 30 what, WHY BLOG ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU MISS IT DAMMIT! ]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;#4&lt;/strong&gt; HIM &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;[ HAHAHA i think this is the funniest, LIKE HOW PEOPLE WANNA HIDE WHO THEY LIKE AND JUST USE THE TERMS HE/HIM/IT/DUMBSHIT ]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do you get the whole 'IMYYYYYY' scenario? cause i do NOT! if you're one of em people can you tell me? i need to know. ): *gives pityful/dying of food face 0.0* &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can feel how much anger i have in me? i think if i were to write a song about my life it'll all be about how much i laugh at people in the streets and i'd be sent to hell at the end of the day. someone save me from myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"there is a tide in the affairs of men. which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. but omitted, and the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and miseries. on such a full sea are we now afloat, and we must take the current when it serves -- or lose the ventures before us." - william shakespeare.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; - &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;life is short and opportunities are rare, &amp; we have to be vigilant in protecting them. &amp;amp; not only the opportunities to succeed but the opportunity to laugh, to see the enchantment in the world, &amp; to live.because life doenst owe us anything, but i think we owe something to the world. now is the time for us to shine. the time when our dreams are within reach&amp;amp; possibilities vast, now is the time for all of us to become the people we've always dreamed of being. this is your world, you're here. you matter. the world is waiting.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-5616680107964950641?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/5616680107964950641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=5616680107964950641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5616680107964950641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5616680107964950641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/06/and-when-i-see-you-next-well-make-most.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-7383522666694790073</id><published>2007-06-25T18:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T20:18:50.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;when all that we need is, just a reaction. is it too much to ask for, when theres no attraction anymore?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Rn-bolcPn1I/AAAAAAAAACM/rXWdTGCT2hQ/s1600-h/CIMG1333.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079950026244857682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Rn-bolcPn1I/AAAAAAAAACM/rXWdTGCT2hQ/s320/CIMG1333.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;i think saturdays at zouk are gonna be the bomb! we met this dude from? eh i dunno where la, but i know his filllllllllthy rich. yeah when i mean filthy i mean filthy, RICH! haha he bought all of us shots and drinks. but, thanks to my parents, i couldnt drink. THANKS ALOT AH. MAKE ME MISS OUT ON THE GOOD SHIT. ohk. there are alot more pictures but i look like a monkey so im not posting any of it. HAHA try bribing me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its a monday, and i have no school, ohk actually i did but i decided not to go. the thought of travelling a half hour to school and back makes me all jelly and lazy. so hello to bumming on an uber hott day. well at least i did bring mr chubbs down for his stinking walk. well im really really bored, if you could tell cause im not talking rubbish or being an emo banana or chilling with my dez/ji/kt/carm/kpbaby tho i dont chill with him i just irritate him. so heres something i found under your grannys skirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Name: Jelly Is Wob-Bly tho many just call me bridget. Its really in my IC. i swear.&lt;br /&gt;Birthday: 09081989 yeah yeah the whole SG celebrates with me. whatever.&lt;br /&gt;Birthplace: in a pineapple under the sea&lt;br /&gt;Current Location: Singapore&lt;br /&gt;Eye Color: maroon, you know like maroon 5?&lt;br /&gt;Hair Color: black. haha &amp; no i have not emo hair!&lt;br /&gt;Height: 197 although sometimes i feel much much taller!&lt;br /&gt;Right Handed or Left Handed: righty tighty&lt;br /&gt;Your Heritage: chinesee?&lt;br /&gt;The Shoes You Wore Today: i wasnt even out but i brought kp down and i was barefooted. HAHA SLIPPERS LA ASK FOR WHAT.&lt;br /&gt;Your Weakness: food&amp;amp;ONE TREE HILL&amp;whatever makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;Your Fears: being left behind&lt;br /&gt;Your Perfect Pizza: hawaiian with lotsa cheese&amp;amp;apples&amp;pines! do u like cheeseee&amp;amp;apples&amp;pines?&lt;br /&gt;Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: to major in slacking tho i know i've already achieved that. study hard la duh. everyone wants to get em grades!&lt;br /&gt;Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger: 'HAHAHA' &amp;amp; 'yeah'or'ohk' when i have absolutely nothing to say anymore, i knoww, total conversation killers!&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts First Waking Up: needsssss more sleep&lt;br /&gt;Your Best Physical Feature: i hate it when theres a black out and i have to climb 8 stories up! you know? when its all dark and scary and raining and where most gang rapes/robberies/kidnapping/murders happen?&lt;br /&gt;Your Bedtime: haha i never sleep but that would contradict with the question THOUGHTS FIRST WAKING UP. so i have thoughts when i wake up, but i dont sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Your Most Missed Memory: being on the field, feeling the heat&amp;the pressure.&lt;br /&gt;Pepsi or Coke: COKKEEEEEEE&lt;br /&gt;MacDonalds or Burger King: RONALD MAKES IT MAGIC! but i dont deny i love em mushroom swiss!&lt;br /&gt;Single or Group Dates: i dont date because... THERES A FUCKING COCKRAOCH FLYING AROUND.&lt;br /&gt;Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: LIPton Ice tea!&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate or Vanilla: why isnt strawberry and option? is it not as popular somehow? cause i really prefer strawberry.&lt;br /&gt;Cappuccino or Coffee: tea! i think it should be one of the choices.&lt;br /&gt;Do you Smoke: HAHA ew.&lt;br /&gt;Do you Swear: haha no i dont fucking swear and i feel utter fucking disgust to people who fucking swear.&lt;br /&gt;Do you Sing: No? but i know you do! during the 7thmonth on the lunar calendar! ive been watching youu...&lt;br /&gt;Do you Shower Daily: obviously! i bathe about 7-8 times a day.&lt;br /&gt;Have you Been in Love: HAHA, love suxoorrzx. teehee&lt;br /&gt;Do you want to go to College: HAHA, some of my friends would die for it.&lt;br /&gt;Do you want to get Married: no, i wanna die early.&lt;br /&gt;Do you belive in yourself: Yes, i think. do you wanna hear my emo translation of how people dont believe in themseleves? people dont believe in themself ):&lt;br /&gt;Do you get Motion Sickness: i havent sat a plane in 17 years!&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you are Attractive: kp loves me so mabbe i look like a cat. meoow!&lt;br /&gt;Are you a Health Freak: HAHA. NO. i eat all sorts of rubbish.&lt;br /&gt;Do you get along with your Parents: yes very muccccch!&lt;br /&gt;Do you like Thunderstorms: yeah. gives me a reason to sleep the day away.&lt;br /&gt;Do you play an Instrument: YEH I DO! i play seven hundred&amp;amp; seventy-seven instruments&lt;br /&gt;In the past month have you Drank Alcohol: wanna ask me if i got drunk?&lt;br /&gt;In the past month have you Smoked: EW I SAID I DIDNT SMOKE RIGHT.&lt;br /&gt;In the past month have you been on Drugs: yeah i popped a few panadols!&lt;br /&gt;In the past month have you gone on a Date: i told you i didnt date either. is this survehh stupid cause it likes asking me repeated questions.&lt;br /&gt;In the past month have you gone to a Mall: town! and i can tell you that people dress funny! some drown themselves in make up and some come in their PJs. some wear 8 layers of clothes like singapore is located far far far far far farr from the equator. whats wrong with singaporeans?&lt;br /&gt;In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos: cant remember. i eat so much!&lt;br /&gt;In the past month have you eaten Sushi: YEAH I L-O-V-E SUSHI! HEEHEEEE&lt;br /&gt;In the past month have you been on Stage: haha ehh. nope.&lt;br /&gt;In the past month have you been Dumped: D'OH.&lt;br /&gt;In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping: i cant remember when i've seen the sun for 12 hours.&lt;br /&gt;In the past month have you Stolen Anything: yeah almost everyday!&lt;br /&gt;Ever been Drunk: HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA. you can ask my friends.&lt;br /&gt;Ever been called a Tease: i know peyton has!&lt;br /&gt;Ever been Beaten up: HAHA nope. i would like to see someone get beat tho. im not a saddist. im not a saddist. i did not just repeat that. i did not just repeat that.&lt;br /&gt;Ever Shoplifted: everyday&lt;br /&gt;How do you want to Die: in my stinking sleep but i dont wanna be stinky&lt;br /&gt;What do you want to be when you Grow Up: IDK!&lt;br /&gt;What country would you most like to Visit: EGYPT! dont ask me why eh.&lt;br /&gt;In a Boy/Girl..&lt;br /&gt;Favourite Eye Color: yellow but it had better not be fake!&lt;br /&gt;Favourite Hair Color: brown like seth!&lt;br /&gt;Short or Long Hair: LIKE SETH LIKE SETH LIKE SETH. or if your brad pitt den screw the seth image!&lt;br /&gt;Height: much taller than i am!&lt;br /&gt;Weight: please be overweight.&lt;br /&gt;Best Clothing Style: please look like a jackass&lt;br /&gt;Number of Drugs I have taken: a hell lot. like 10948230948 i think. mabbe more.&lt;br /&gt;Number of CDs I own: SEE DEES? CDS NO MORE! DOWNLOADING!&lt;br /&gt;Number of Piercings: hundred and 4, all on my face. you can imagine how i look like. not true to the pic above ^&lt;br /&gt;Number of Tattoos: when im not wearing anything youd think im wearing a leotard. HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;Number of things in my Past I Regret: when i told god i'd give up anything for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; all i need to know is that im something you'll be missing. i'd never lie to you, unless i had to i'll do what i got to, but the truth, is you could slit my throat. and with my one last gasping breath i'd apologise, for bleeding on your shirt.&lt;em&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;if only you knew half as much as you pretend to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;move a little closer, hold me tighter, i'll stay if you're gonna keep me in line.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-7383522666694790073?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/7383522666694790073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=7383522666694790073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7383522666694790073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7383522666694790073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/06/when-all-that-we-need-is-just-reaction.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Rn-bolcPn1I/AAAAAAAAACM/rXWdTGCT2hQ/s72-c/CIMG1333.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-191426213811673318</id><published>2007-06-22T03:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T03:56:49.267+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;&amp; if i dont make it, know that, i loved you all along. just like sunny days that we ignore because we're all dumb and jaded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it possible to meet 138372432 people in a day? i think so! i think my day was quite a fulfilling one, even when i spent half of it pigging out being a couch potatoeeee on my sofa. basically i was attempting to get a tan from the heat my laptop was producing. and some from the tv too of course. but.. haha it didnt work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i was quite depressed then i proceeded to meet dez and ji and viknesh (to eat of course) which led to an unexpected coincidental surprising unforseen unintentional unplanned unintended fortuitous &amp;amp; accidental meeting of mr adi danial. mm yeah. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;soon afterrr.. i met kevin yonnshenn kathe herman &amp; liren. this was arranged &amp;amp; deliberate. its been a long time since i've seen kevvinn &amp; yonnshen! &amp;amp; i can say kevin changed quite abit! his head doesnt look that big anymore tho i can say if i plant an angsana tree in his hair i wouldnt be able to see it still. and yonnshenn still looks fine as ever! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, ji &amp; viknesh had to go for their 'training' HAHA speaking of....... i think that dragon boat is.. 1) a brainless sport. 2) a brainless sport.. 3) a sport which doesnt require more than 1/10th of your brains.. 4) lame.. cause the guys train(extreemely harddd, sometimes even choke/try to kill themselves by excessive non-stop sessions of beating themselves up in the wee hours of the morning) just to row a boat. why row when you can always buy a motor? 5) a brainless sport. OHK. i think the only plus point about it is that you'll look good. BODY WISE. but if you dont have the face then.. WHY WASTE YOUR TIME. HAHAHA. like dez would say.. male bimbos! HAH NO OFFENCE TO MY DEAR DEAR FRIENDS. i still love you none the less. even when i think that you're thinking with your kukuteh, i love euux. i ♥ you. TEEHEEEHEEEE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alright where was i.. oh yehh, so we left dez and sherie, i went to meet adi, AGAIN, this time intentionally, because... well i dont know. he's depressed. was supposed to go home together but... i went to meet carmen demin and ken instead. HAHA. CAUSE DEMIN DROVEEEE. HAHA AND HE WANTED THE NDP TICKETS SO MUCH HE SED HE'D DROVE ME ANYWHERE BUT WHEN KEN&amp;amp;I WANTED TO GO SEE PROSTITUTES HE DIDNT WANNA DRIVE US THERE. and ken is scared of cockroaches. HA HA HA!! GAY! mabbe demin is intimidated by prostitutes? we'll never know!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOO. i met 12 people today. im so proud of myself. (:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohk. soo. i dont think i eat veeeeehhhhhhhhhh slowly leh. ohk. i think my max speed is like.. 1 bite a minute? so if i take 7 bites it'd be 7 mins. but thats average. i think sometimes i eat faster? when people dont stare at me and bugg me to eat faster. &amp;amp; i dig left handed people. dont you think the way they do stuff is so opposite and retarded you'd feel like smacking them on the head. and im right handed so dont you think i should get a left handed boyfriend because the opposites attract? but this way, dont you think god would have made as many left hand people as right handed people? this way there'll be a perfect balance in the human cycle of repeated correct handed people. so mabbe all girls should be right handed and guys should be left handed. but then i wouldnt know what would happen if a girl falls for a girl. i think god would be damn stressed out on how to make the next generation balanced. mabbe our next generation would all be bi-handed(you know like bi-lingual?)/double-handed/tripple-handed. you know something? i have no idea what im talking about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope to god i'd figure out whats wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-191426213811673318?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/191426213811673318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=191426213811673318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/191426213811673318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/191426213811673318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/06/if-i-dont-make-it-know-that-i-loved-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-366974809682504384</id><published>2007-06-21T00:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T00:28:33.225+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;know that everythings gonna be fine, even without you here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;imagine you are holding on to a cup, and someone's pouring hot water. if feels good intially, then the water starts to overflow, then you have two choices, let go, or continue holding. its exactly like a relationship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you should always let go of something you think is not worth holding onto. and if it comes back and chases you like hell then maybe it was meant to be. but if it doesnt then you'd know that it wasnt even good to begin with. but then again. if you come back, i'd be way ahead. cause i know tears will fall and hearts will break.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someone said to me 'dont ever turn back to regret like we all did. because this, it's not worth regretting. its gonna be okay. its alright to fall and hurt but dont forget to learn from them. because in the end you'll be stronger than always. we're friends, you &amp; i. and we've seen what we're both going through. we need to pull each other up so that neither of us will fall.' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think, sometimes all we need is someone to lean on. someone to talk to, who you know wouldn't judge you for the choices you've made. someone who doesnt turn to your face and say 'i told you so' but instead tells you that everythings gonna be alright. because we all need a little help sometimes, even when we feel like we dont.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oliver said true friends are those who are willing to bag a shot for you, even when they know that they'll eventually die. sounds kinda unrealistic, but on a simpler term, they are the ones who'd be there to do anything for you despite the outcome! sounds better? ok not.. cause everything i say will just sound so cliche! omg now i feel dumb! thats just like me saying something like.. 'friends forever' you know? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cause we all know there never is a forever, tho that kinda rhymed. but ya, we all know that there is never a forever, or an eternity. but some people see forever as something thats extremely important. or is there not such a thing as extremely too cause arent we talking about extremes here? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohk i know i dont make sense, but i think im fine now cause i feel like my usual self but i dont know whats going on im still waiting for my food sernzhi suppsoed to buy for me &amp;amp; right now i think its tiring cause im not talking in any punctuation. i think tomorrow will be a sunny day because i dont see any clouds in the sky. ohk not, i actually did see the weather forecast. am i speaking out of point? anyways, kp, i love. get some sleep, you should. good night. and i love dez cause she's always there for me, and im glad she's a happy camper now. ok. goodnight. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i spoke to the sky today.. it told me everything was gonna be alright.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-366974809682504384?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/366974809682504384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=366974809682504384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/366974809682504384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/366974809682504384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/06/know-that-everythings-gonna-be-fine_21.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-4755912659436878465</id><published>2007-06-20T00:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T02:09:41.842+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;if i am lost for a day try to find me, but if i dont come back then i wont look behind me. all of the things that i thought was so easy, just got harder and harder each day.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is so easy to see, dysfunction between you and me, we must free up these tired souls, before this sadness kills us both. i tried and tired to let you know, i love you but im letting go, this may not last but i dont know. built a wall around my heart, never let it fall apart. strangely, i secretly wish it will fall down when i sleep. we have not hit the ground but doesnt mean that we're not still falling. i want for mine to pick you up, but your still too reluctant to accept my help. what a shame, i hope you find somewhere to place the blame. but until then the facts remain. if you dont know, then you cant care. and i show up, but your not there. but im waiting, and you want to, but still afraid that i'll desert you. everyday, with every word whispered we get so far away. the distance between us makes it so hard to stay, and nothing lasts forever but be honest babe, it hurts but it may be the only way. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;anger sadness &amp; disappointment. emotions are more than words can explain. ever felt on the verge of exploding? when you reach the climax of disappointment it turns to sadness and ultimately to anger. i dont know how to say it but its like when you expect someone to be the best they can be, then they disappoint you so badly you just feel like ripping their throats out of place. ohk that sounded very violent. but seriously...? i hate disappointment. its like the mother of all depressing emotions. it leaves you empty and stuck cause you can't do shit about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im drying my eyes and i'm gonna be on my way. i cant stay. i wont. and when i leave this time, i assure you that its for good. so let me go and we'll both be fine. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;we always end up hurting the ones we really love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-4755912659436878465?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/4755912659436878465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=4755912659436878465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4755912659436878465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4755912659436878465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/06/if-i-am-lost-for-day-try-to-find-me-but.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-5289111615218940787</id><published>2007-06-15T14:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T15:22:49.372+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;we all need a little help&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RnI1jVcPn0I/AAAAAAAAACE/D1Xqfq_8cXc/s1600-h/collage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076178611167272770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RnI1jVcPn0I/AAAAAAAAACE/D1Xqfq_8cXc/s320/collage.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha YUP! this is what we actually do at work. 1 whole week of rubbish. yup i got 300+ for standing around taking pictures with my darlins. hahaha! ok whatever, im finally a free laddeee! im proud to say that i've done alot of work during this past week,(NOOOOTTTT!!!)heh, watched F4 rise of the silver surfer yesterday! jessica alba looks like fucken crap! thank god chris evans looked flawless. woo, he's hot beyond hot! (dez would say- HARCORE HOT) HAH! had steeeeeeeeemboat yesterday too, at jerm's place. everyone was present! from ji baby to kayyyyyyytee to dez to ah eh to orks to...... you get what i mean, everyone was there.. oh, everyone went to zouk on wednesday too, yeah after stinking work! im not gonna upload any pics, cause.. haha i dont know, maybe i hate you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually i've got nothing much to blog about, and all of a sudden i think blogging sounds lame. like.. 'hurhur, brb im blogging about all the shit that happened today.' orr.. 'im so depressed, im gonna blog about my depressed life so that everyone can read and pity my depressed self, maybe people will start donating money to me,*eyes enlarges* 0.0' i always thought a blog was suppsoed to be personal. i mean, its like a journal right? like what you do everyday, what you saw, what you smelt, how you wiped your ass, you know? that kinda stuff, - personal! you wouldnt want some random person reading your blog to secretly know how you feel, how you really go about your day, how you look like semi naked or how you pick large boogers from your nose right? its no privacy here honestly, the WWW can read how you secretly like a boy who does not return the same feelings, they know how you hide in the corner and cry and beat yourself up assuming the world hates you, technically, being a loser. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think blogging leads to unwanted attention, imagine someone you not know at all knows the world about you, stalks you, hunts you, stabs you and spill your guts out. UHHH!! too much one tree hill there. but seriously, im 'blogging' now and i feel so stupid cause im cursing at how blogging works. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think im very contradicting sometimes, like how i dont like shitting in public places but do it anyways. like how i think popcorn smells like stinking fart but sometimes eat it anyways. &amp;amp; i see everyone switching to LJ recently. i guess it doesnt sound so retarded right? and since im 'blogging' now, suddenly i dont think im cool anymore, maybe i should switch to LJ too, then i wouldnt be 'blogging', i'd be 'livejournaling', tho that sounds more than half as retarded as 'blogging', but at least i'd be cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;its beyond me, i cannot carry the weight of the heavy world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-5289111615218940787?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/5289111615218940787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=5289111615218940787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5289111615218940787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5289111615218940787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/06/we-all-need-little-help-haha-yup-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RnI1jVcPn0I/AAAAAAAAACE/D1Xqfq_8cXc/s72-c/collage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-7122832825215398900</id><published>2007-06-12T01:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T02:09:55.663+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;perhaps we all give the beat of our hearts uncritically, to those to hardly think about us in return.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;beeeen daaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn tired. im offically a non-working-lady in 3 days! yay. $$ i need you. my hands damn itchy to go online shopping alright! but im low on the beans so i cant. since im gonna get my pay soon, i can start checking out the merchandise already dontcha think? haha, aiya whatever, its just a reason for me to alright! back to thee old habits. i cant wait till wednesday seriously. i think a wednesday for us is officially party day. hahah.. or rather, ZOUK day. haha fricking hell, i miss soccer, alot. i wanna hug it. supposed to have a friendly with jj today but hell, work screwed my perfect opportunity to play. grrr. oh oh, yesterday was one of thee most exciting nights of my life. i never felt such huge adreneline rushes before. and before you start thinking dirty,curse you. haha, me and dez caught a shoplifter! woohoo! and we followed her/him(BUNG LA OHK) all the way to tangs to watch her get caught. apparently she was on a major shopping-for-free-day. like 1000 over dollars worth of stolen goods? haha nice one. i wish i could do that. and she was 23 eh, old + stupid. WHO THE HELL WANNA STEAL FROM GIORDANO? THE USUAL PRICE ALREADY LIKE 90% DISCOUNT LEH! but maybe she really not money? anyways.i was thinking, we did help isetan retrieve 1000 dollars worth of goods, we should get some kinda increment/reward for it right? i guess all we get is a pat on the back and a job well done *thumbs up cum stupid looking face* curse you isetan!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-7122832825215398900?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/7122832825215398900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=7122832825215398900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7122832825215398900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7122832825215398900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/06/perhaps-we-all-give-beat-of-our-hearts.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-5760050064448925946</id><published>2007-06-06T00:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T00:31:39.349+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;faith is believing when there's nothing else that you can do.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes, its not being more careful with a chemistry, &lt;em&gt;its about being careful with your &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;heart&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/em&gt; but you know, if your always looking for reasons not to be with somebody, well you'll always find them. and i guess at some point we all should just let go and give your heart what it deserves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the heart has reasons that reason cannot know&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-5760050064448925946?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/5760050064448925946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=5760050064448925946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5760050064448925946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5760050064448925946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/06/faith-is-believing-when-theres-nothing.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-7259731419543290343</id><published>2007-06-04T00:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T01:14:12.084+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;i cant do this if you dont want to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i need you to need me. i need you to want me so much that you'd do anything for. i saw it once, and i can honestly say your not even trying now. i dont think you miss me, i dont see it. i dont wanna be that person for you if you think you could have me that easily. i need to feel how much you feel for me. i need it to shine through you, like how it shone before. i need to wake up in the morning and have a reason for living. i wanna wake up in the morning and you be the first voice i hear. i wanna be the first person you hear in the morning and the last you hear at night. i want you to need me so much that you'd text me and say 'i miss you' after i leave the cab. i need alot of things. i want alot of things. it may be alot, but right now, i just dont see anything, not even the smallest bit of need in you. even as much as i want this to work, i dont know how its going to, cause i dont see it coming from you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someday we'll know if love can move a mountain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-7259731419543290343?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/7259731419543290343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=7259731419543290343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7259731419543290343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7259731419543290343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-cant-do-this-if-you-dont-want-to-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-5172078233462494248</id><published>2007-06-02T15:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-02T16:45:04.236+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;cause maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its saturday, its not raining, i have econs test on monday, and im pigging out on my sofa. GG man! havent studied shit. haha im suppsoed to blog for LMS, and i havent done it too. haha. great! i havent done ANYTHING! haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anywayyyy. wednesday we were suppsoed to go to zouk. it was perfect timing cause thursday was a holiday, but well, the place wasnt packed at all, like a few kezillion people only, not many. we didnt manage to weave our way through the may dozen people so we left to dxo, CAUSE IM NOT 18 YET TO GET IN MOS GAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. till august ): boohoo. dxo sucked balls. shit music+shit crowd+shit band+shit mood+shit+shitty+shit shit shit. ok you get my point. we didnt go in either. 18 bucks for shit music+shit crowd............................etc.. wahseh! i rather use that money to wipe my backside la. alright alright, overall, it was a pretty shitty day. but i guess it beats sitting down staring into each others nostrils thinking of somewhere to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i watched shrek yesterday, and i think it was rather good leh, tho some other people think otherwise! i think i spend alota $$$ you know. im all alone at home! though that has no connection, i just felt like saying it. ohhhh, OTH episode 19 is OUTTTTTTT! can you people please go catch it. i havent watched it tho, cause bit torrent is being a bitch and taking forever to download, but i read the recap, HAHA, ohk so what? i like knowing what happens in the end before i watch something! hahaha LUCAS SHOT DAN! DAMN! ohk, if you dont like spoilers den my bad. although i meant to do that intentionally. HAHA. ohk i didnt mean to, really.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we wont need any wings to fly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-5172078233462494248?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/5172078233462494248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=5172078233462494248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5172078233462494248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5172078233462494248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/06/cause-maybe-youre-gonna-be-one-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-3807546791865748600</id><published>2007-06-01T00:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T00:38:22.151+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;should i stay, or should i go?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no one ever taught us how to deal with this feeling. this feeling of insecurity. this feeling of being so unsure. they say, our histories always comes back to haunt us. well, i think.. other peoples histories haunts us more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like the feeling of being afraid with someone because your unsure of whether the same thing might happen again. or like the trust that was once there can never ever be because you dont know how to bring yourself to forgive and to forget. i know, you might say we all have to let go of the grude someday, but what if that something was almost too impossible to forgive? like what if someone cheated on you? and you feel so disgusted and so betrayed and that everytime when you have that slightest thought of forgiveness you rethink and tell yourself, no i shouldnt, no, i shouldnt have to be in that situation again, cause if i step into quicksand again i might never be able to pick myself out. im sure you know very well, once bitten twice shy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it might be unfair to everyone else out there, it might be unfair because they dont get any second chances, but honestly, im sick of second chances. im tired of people who think they deserve a second chance all the time. once is already too much to handle dont you think? nobody wants something thats broken. nobody wants a broken heart twice in a lifetime. shit happens, yeah. but if you could prevent that something from happening, would you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wanted to see, something thats different, something you said would change in me. wanted to be anything different, everything you would change in me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-3807546791865748600?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/3807546791865748600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=3807546791865748600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3807546791865748600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3807546791865748600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/06/should-i-stay-or-should-i-go-no-one.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-7462402721305783637</id><published>2007-05-30T00:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T01:31:33.325+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;saw you sitting all alone. you're fragile and you're cold. but thats alright. life these days are getting rough. they knock you down and beat you up. but its just a rollercoaster anyway. its not right, not ok. say the words that you say. maybe we're better off this way? im not fine, im in pain, its harder everday. but maybe we're better off this way. maybe its better that we break.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;i just watched miss universe and i cant stop laughing. HAHAHA. well, ok, i'll get to that later. japan won! seriously, the asians were owning! haha! and did i mention miss korea is damn HOT! haha so is china(HAHAHAHAHA) japan's evening gown was damn pretty la. oh ohk, anyways... MISS USA FELL DURING THE EVENING GOWN SECTION. &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=gZZd9UGV0uI"&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA.&lt;/a&gt; seriously, if i see it now, i'll still laugh. youtube's a bitch la, the pagent was only shown this morning la, not even 24 hrs the vid in already. wth. but.. even after she fell, she still beat like 5 of them and made it to top 5 la, so you...... can go figure! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;ok enough of that, i got fricking locked out of home after soccer la. my family went to watch a stinking movie at 845 and i forgot to bring my keys! yeah, but thank god i wasnt alone leh. beka was locked out with me. HAHA. we tried 'breaking in' tho. sounds kinda wrong since its our own place. oh wth. we went all the way to GWC to take the keys anyways! fricking hell im like dead tired now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;its all too late to say the words that would mend the things that were broken. im gone away. dont cry, but think back at the times when i made you smile. rejoice everytime you hear the sound of my voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-7462402721305783637?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/7462402721305783637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=7462402721305783637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7462402721305783637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7462402721305783637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/saw-you-sitting-all-alone.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-816895264850724639</id><published>2007-05-25T16:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-25T16:47:08.529+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;embed name="widget" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" align="middle" src="http://dna.imagini.net/friends/swf/widget.swf" width="340" height="240" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="never" allownetworking="internal" enablejavascript="false" quality="best" bgcolor="#000000" flashvars="bgcolor=#000000&amp;i1=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-78BCAFD1.jpeg&amp;amp;c1=&amp;i2=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-0455EFC.jpeg&amp;amp;c2=&amp;i3=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-5CA8BFBC.jpeg&amp;amp;c3=&amp;i4=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-4811A17.jpeg&amp;amp;c4=&amp;i5=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-177C0BDC.jpeg&amp;amp;c5=&amp;i6=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_60BD8C5F.jpeg&amp;amp;c6=&amp;i7=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-5BFB07FF.jpeg&amp;amp;c7=&amp;i8=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_2833BF23.jpeg&amp;amp;c8=&amp;i9=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_0F054FAB.jpeg&amp;amp;c9=&amp;i10=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_3124B621.jpeg&amp;amp;c10=&amp;i11=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_3BBA58B3.jpeg&amp;amp;c11=&amp;i12=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-31AF758B.jpeg&amp;amp;c12=&amp;i13=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_658383D5.jpeg&amp;amp;c13=&amp;moodlabel=EASY RIDER &amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lovelabel=LOVE BUG&amp;funlabel=THRILLER&amp;amp;habitslabel=JUNKIE MONKEY&amp;uid=358505-8f58&amp;amp;srv=iwebcl4"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;in a world filled with darkness, we all need some kind of light. whether it's a great flame that shows us how to win back what we've lost, or a powerful beacon intended to scare away potential monsters, or a few glowing bulbs that reveal to us the hidden truth of our past. we all need something to help us get through the night. even if it's just the tiniest glimmer of hope.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;human beings are designed for many things. loneliness isn't one of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-816895264850724639?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/816895264850724639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=816895264850724639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/816895264850724639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/816895264850724639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/in-world-filled-with-darkness-we-all.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-3506225459478705494</id><published>2007-05-24T10:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T10:28:56.652+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RlT00MiJ_II/AAAAAAAAABs/ro7iaUvcP3M/s1600-h/SP_A3807.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067944658253511810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RlT00MiJ_II/AAAAAAAAABs/ro7iaUvcP3M/s320/SP_A3807.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hi dez. happy stinking 18 birthday. you look great, and more like a girl. caught POTC yesterday. wwahahahahahaha CHOW YUN FAT DIED BTW. AND WILL TURNER GOT STABBED IN THE HEART BY DAVVY JONES. WAHHAHA. SO JACK SPARROW HAD TO MAKE WILL STAB DAVVY JONES HEART AND THAT LED HIM TO TAKE OVER HIS SHIP. WOOHHOOOOOO!!!!! ELIZABETH BECAME CAPTAIN OF CHOW YUN FATTS SHIP. (ok i dont rmb his name in the show ok. time to catch it again. wahha.)HAHAHA. ok zouk after that. ehhh damn packed! but was quite fun ah despite the drama that came along with it! anywaaaaaaayyyyyyssssssssssssssss. HAIRPEE BIRTHDAY AGAIN DEZ, you stink but i still love you. WAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;i cant do this alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-3506225459478705494?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/3506225459478705494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=3506225459478705494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3506225459478705494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3506225459478705494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/hi-dez.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RlT00MiJ_II/AAAAAAAAABs/ro7iaUvcP3M/s72-c/SP_A3807.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-4255506110075831691</id><published>2007-05-23T00:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T00:24:36.334+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;i cant trust you.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i dont believe how someone can tell you how much they wanna be with you in the front and yet behind you.. ohk you dont wanna know. but sometimes, i just feel so betrayed. like someone you trust so much to do something you wouldnt even imagine in your wildest dreams. like you expect that person to be the best he can be, and yet, in the end all you get is disappointment &amp;  sometimes a broken heart. you think he's one thing in front of you, but he's not. you expect that person, to be better than he is. to be a better person than he seems. but no, the truth will hit you in the face, like when shit hits the fan. and then only you'll realise that, no he's not the one for you. no, he's not the person you think he is. and that he's just like any other passing face you see on the streets, fake &amp; unrealistic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;im not your stand-in. i know im better than that. so dont come. dont come.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-4255506110075831691?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/4255506110075831691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=4255506110075831691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4255506110075831691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4255506110075831691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-cant-trust-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-2743441179438104644</id><published>2007-05-19T14:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-19T14:45:06.256+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;im sick of second chances, cigarettes turns to ashes. i watched the hours pass us, another one turns to ashes. im waiting for your phone call, to come and save me so that you can break my fall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is there really a point of no return? where something you've done, can never be erased, can never be forgiven, and forgot? i guess its true, passing the point of no return. well this may sound very POTO(phamtom of the opera btw), but yeah, our histories always comes back and bites us. our history, or our reputation some might call it, scares a few of us. like what if the same shits gonna happen all over again. and you might say now, that no, im sure, it wouldnt. but hell! words always makes situations seem deeper, darker and more twisty than it is! and you know, words are also stuff people say, that makes things twice as complicated! words strangle your mind. they question you, and make you more confused than you already are! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so no, sometimes you cannot really believe what certain people say. in fact, i dont believe in anyone anymore. trust is lost in our generation. people just lie, all the time. just weaves and weaves of lies. and sometimes they just get so good at it, you wouldnt know who to believe anymore, cause once you've dug deep and cut out all the layer of lies on the top, the truth has already found itself a way into creeping onto our hearts. and yeah the truth sucks. it hurts like hell. but we still have to suck it up and swallow it no matter how nasty the taste is. cause thats life, and if it doesnt kill you, it'll only make you stronger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you might say im afraid, damn right you are. im afraid of not being a better person. im afraid of being a fricking substitute. im afraid of you and of the way you make me feel. im afraid of falling into something i know i shouldnt. im afraid of myself, of what i do, what i decide and how i feel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll take my heart, rip my feelings out. before they make me doubt my existence. im done hurting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-2743441179438104644?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/2743441179438104644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=2743441179438104644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2743441179438104644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2743441179438104644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/im-sick-of-second-chances-cigarettes.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-4903116484603030648</id><published>2007-05-16T21:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T22:25:33.831+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;i think sometimes all we need is something to distract us from whats happening around us. the drama, the tension, the emotions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i've been home late like 3 out of 4 days of the week!(so far that is) sunday i was being a plain bummer, sitting on my sofa couch, playing cs with nick and alex, eating kitkats and popiahs and duck and fake meat fried rice! fake meat meaning vegetarian, duh. HAHA. mondaayyy which was yesterday's yesterday.. i went for tennis with carmbaby and ernest! haha adn i have to mention.. i was feeding the fricking mosquitoes! the coach was damn old and he had knee problems yanno? and i think whatever balls i hit are magnets to him cs they just keep flying to him. NOT MY FAULT THEREEEEE. HAHAHA!! at least my toenails arent like carms. HAHA. ohk no link. anyway, yesterday had soccer training. ehhh, the field was damn muddy and shit la, i think i smelled like poo after training. ew. today i had class which ended at 3 but had to wait for stinky ji ji to end his fricking class. owells his hockey friend like hot la so i dont really lose out right! AHAH. anyways. everyday in class is sucha joy! i think i have the best class mates yet! we talk to each other like we've known for years! and i think derek is gay. mean WTH IS KYOCHI! HAHA KYOCHIBYE! HAHAHA. ohk i think only fel will get me on that. go escape yur mind ah fel. what you reading?!!!! HAHA.ohk. i watched grey's finallllllllyyy. woohoooooooo. and ive watched OTH 17. HOHOOOOOOOOOO. spoilers anyone? oh, yanno ji ji has this really cool&amp;amp;awesome friend who looks like ash ketchem!(is that how you spell it?) he's so my bfffffffffffffff.(boy fricking fricking fricking................freaky friend!) HAHA YEAH YE GOTTA CATCH EM ALL!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe we accept that sometimes the dream has become a nightmare. we tell ourselves that reality is better. we convince ourselves it's better that we never dream at all. but, the strongest of us, the most determined of us, holds on to the dream or we find ourselves faced with a fresh dream we never considered. we wake to find ourselves, against all odds, feeling hopeful. and, if we're lucky, we realize in the face of everything, in the face of life the true dream is being able to dream at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;separate yourself from what compels you to relinquish us. stay away from me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-4903116484603030648?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/4903116484603030648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=4903116484603030648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4903116484603030648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4903116484603030648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-think-sometimes-all-we-need-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-6201518428081290410</id><published>2007-05-15T16:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T16:08:14.709+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Rklpyl6POzI/AAAAAAAAABk/JxenBGE-ta4/s1600-h/SP_A3740.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Rklpyl6POzI/AAAAAAAAABk/JxenBGE-ta4/s320/SP_A3740.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064695573845588786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;HAHAHA carmen's photography skills kinda lousy la so dont blame her. her healthy like distracting her. thats ernest btw! my friend whose head is filled with only coconut water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;please dont come back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-6201518428081290410?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/6201518428081290410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=6201518428081290410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/6201518428081290410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/6201518428081290410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/hahaha-carmens-photography-skills-kinda.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Rklpyl6POzI/AAAAAAAAABk/JxenBGE-ta4/s72-c/SP_A3740.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-8451892465170915824</id><published>2007-05-12T13:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T16:04:46.126+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;we will never be. and if you come back, i'll be long gone. so thank you, cause now you made me that much stronger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-8451892465170915824?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/8451892465170915824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=8451892465170915824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8451892465170915824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8451892465170915824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/we-will-never-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-8761314215792653019</id><published>2007-05-09T22:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T00:02:38.189+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;and all the memories will never fade for years and years in my heart you’ll stay. they were always for you. always for you.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RkHjil6POyI/AAAAAAAAABc/d6Y3-cs3MuQ/s1600-h/collage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062577639572585250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RkHjil6POyI/AAAAAAAAABc/d6Y3-cs3MuQ/s320/collage.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;HAHA, ohk this is a totally random one. but check it out man, i uploaded many interesting pictures. ahhaha! i'll try and explain it all for you. well as you can see, i love taking random pictures of people who make me go ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. ohk more like HAHAHAHAHAHAHAA. well the first one is..(the one on the left at the top most corner) is some ah lian with her 'boyfie', i dont think you can see very clearly, but she was wearing this hideous pair of purple coloured pants. HAHAH and when i say hideous, i mean HIDEOUS. i mean, it looks like something i'd wipe cat shit off the floor with, get what i mean? looks like a bloody rag la to put it in short! HAHA, mm and the 2nd one, is major fashion statement! HAHA. ok not, it is basically this bunch of banglahs off work going out to party with their favourite pair of bellbottoms. HAHAH how cool is that, imma get one pair soon also! but i'll let you see only if you ask nicely. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha, the third one is.... HAHA seriously i myself have no idea what that bunch of black stuff is doing on his head. dez would say, it looks like pubes. HAHAHAHAA. yeah and the fourth one is when i ALMOST got knocked down by a really gigantor lorry. and when i looked up HENG HENG SIAH! HAHA ok not true, but its funny right? who the hell would name their shop HENG HENG SIAH, machiam damn heng like that!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHA OK THIS PIC IS THE BOMB! favourite past time i swear! haha yeah you guessed it. we just looooove taxi drivers with really cool parents that give them really cool names! damn you guys brighten up our lives, i dedicate this post to lee ah pee, teo ming por and all others who have been extremely humiliated by us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH the next picture is when we were at labyrinth, then this buncha brain-injured people hogging the photo-hunt machine which is the only entertainment me and ah eh get when theres no soccer on ESPN. check out the rolls of fat on her, wahseh, think she never heard of e-x-e-r-c-i-s-e, still got cheek to hog photohut machine!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohk the indian is my friend la, but i wanted to put him there. cause he looked funny. HAHA, he even introduced me to a really cool webpage called &lt;a href="http://www.tamilbeat.com"&gt;www.tamilbeat.com&lt;/a&gt; GO CHECK IT OUT! SOME REALLY REALLY AWESOME TUNES THERE. HAHA. ohk not, it was actually chenyang who gave me that link, and no i dont have such a cool tamil friend, if only i had one den i'd be rocking cool. HAHA OK NEXT!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ehh, thats actually orky's and kayt's and jeremy's colleague when they were working at mt faber. HAHAHA she couldnt stop yakking so i got bored. HAHA, she actually looks quite constipated in dots, HAHAHA oh and cheryl was wearing dots on that day too. HAHA SISTERS FOR LIFE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wahh i'll never end my post if i go one by one! i think i'll just sum it up la since im so lazy. thats some really sexy dude posing for my cam on the MRT. hahaha, what was going through his mind? haha honestly, i have no idea. maybe he was just trying to air his balls? haha guess we'll never know! well the next two is just two aunties sitting on the bus in really really awkward positions. AHAH, yeah i started laughing to myself. owells, old people are queer! HAHA, ohk, you might wanna look more closely at this, those are two girls on the MRT, in dots, AGAIN! cheryls long lost siblings. ahhaha! WOW, ok, smell this, i mean, look at the next one, one whole row dominated by the banglah race. i think first they start to conquer our trains, next..............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AHHA oh, TOPSHOP STAFF TOTALLY CLEAN THEIR OWN WINDOWS. HAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. ohk dont laugh la, next time if they cannot find job at least can make it as window wipers right? WHAT CAN YOU DO? (ha ha ha haa)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohk i like this last one, i was in school today q-ing for bubble tea with felicia, someone had hair just like in the last pic, i dared her to flick it and she did. i must admit, it looked really tempting! HAHA, bloody flicker of buns. i wanted to flick it too! but the girl looked sad, and she was really fat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;i will not rise from the ashes, dont call me pretentious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-8761314215792653019?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/8761314215792653019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=8761314215792653019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8761314215792653019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8761314215792653019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/and-all-memories-will-never-fade-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RkHjil6POyI/AAAAAAAAABc/d6Y3-cs3MuQ/s72-c/collage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-398820789362002672</id><published>2007-05-08T14:08:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T16:52:16.824+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;lets all just stick as friends, life would be much much much easier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought i knew you. but i guess its easier.. to see what we want, than to look for the truth. you think you know me but you dont; and that means you dont know what i can do. you see me as someone who has all the answers; thats not true. i may not always know what im doing... but ill try make things better. and when i make a mistake... because face it, we all do... i promise ill ask for your help. i cant do this alone. but if youll take a chance on me, we can do great things together. i promise, if you believe in me, ill find the courage to reach for your every dream. John F. Kennedy said; "the courage of life is a magnificent mixture triumph and tragedy. a man does what he must, in spite of personal consequences... in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures.. and that is the basis of all morality."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you see, a funny thing happened, you showed me the good in everybody, if you just gave them a chance, the benefit of the doubt. sometimes people disappoint you, sometimes they surprise you. but you never really get to know them, until you listen to whats in their hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but dont blame me for shutting anyone out, till you get to be here in my shoes, dont blame me. cause a while ago, everyone told me dont, dont choose you. cause i'll end up getting hurt just like before, but i guess i took and chance and believed in you when you said forever, i guess i took a risk when i held your hand and walked out the door. but now i see your just like the words, empty and cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe its best you all leave me alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-398820789362002672?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/398820789362002672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=398820789362002672' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/398820789362002672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/398820789362002672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-9136616834909087511</id><published>2007-05-07T15:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T16:32:14.015+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;if you ever believe this is what you need, it will spin around and shatter throw you to the floor and leaves us in the cold.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do people get pleasure in hurting me? sometimes i think i have this really big bubble above my head saying 'please come into my life make me fall for you then break my heart leaving'. well. leaving me all alone empty is fine, but just dont come back. why do they always have to come back, make your life more complicated than it already is? do people get pleasure in creeping into my heart then leaving so abruptly? what are people thinking! i dont need all this really. i was doing fine, fine without feeling so much for someone. fine when the friends were there. fine when i was free to do what i wanted. fine after 2 fucking months of lonliness and heartache. fine after i had to pick myself up all over again. fine after i finally got over mr heartbreaker. fine when all i wanted to do was to have fun. fine when we were just friends. very fine and very happy mind you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and FYI, i am NOT emotionally unstable, and i didnt need anyone to lean on. i just fell into something i knew i shouldnt have.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i thought god made it sure that lightning never struck twice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-9136616834909087511?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/9136616834909087511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=9136616834909087511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/9136616834909087511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/9136616834909087511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/do-people-get-pleasure-in-hurting-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-7960505096878140479</id><published>2007-05-06T14:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T15:26:00.419+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;too often, the thing you want most is the one thing you cant have. desire leaves us heartbroken, it wears us out. desire can wreck your life. but as tough as wanting something can be. the people who suffer the most, are those who dont know what they want.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Rj12YF6POxI/AAAAAAAAABU/Su08_BRCNjQ/s1600-h/suckassronaldo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061331712509688594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Rj12YF6POxI/AAAAAAAAABU/Su08_BRCNjQ/s320/suckassronaldo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahahaha damn sorry man but i just HAD to do that to ronaldo's cocky face. can't stand him! anyways, man utd won 1-0 yesterday, no thanks to ronaldo's penalty, i mean like, hello? he ain't even a bloody striker la, why does HE get to take penalties! he's not THAT great, if yanno what i mean. he just dives his way to penalties la please. OHHHH, big big biiiigggggggggggggg thanks to van der sar who totally saved the game and my day. heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anways, friiiiiikin school starts again tmrw, can you believe it? the weekend just passed like................... ohk, you know what i mean. wth man, i barely enjoyed it! it was kinda crappy if you asked me. ANYYWAAYY, mr wayniq's coming back today, so my sisters a happy camper. PLUS she has no school + no exams + 3 friikin months of holidays with wayniq by her side. haha. damn am i gonna see him alot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking about holidays.. what the hell happened to mine man! ohk.. i think mine was awesome la! we totally went all over singapore + a little bit of malaysia. HAHA. i can totally imagine it happening all over again. likeeee hanging around no where till 3 4 5 6 in the morning, NO WORK NO SCHOOL LOTSA $$$! WAHHAHA. ohhhhhhhh, and i think it was the only holiday where i ate so much donuts i felt like puking even at the sight and smell of it. ewww. oh did i mention go kart-ing, HAHA. BUANG LIKE MAD!! yeah the bloody machine couldnt even start after me and ah eh hit each other and flew opposite directions. HAHHA. ok i think now i feel like eating donuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ehh by the wayyy.. why is everyone q-ing for donuts at donut factory? frankly speaking, it aint that great. i only like the strawberry ones. dunkin donuts are soo much better. i think if singapore had dunkin donuts, everyone would be like homer simpson since singaporeans are already so crazy over donut factory donuts. ew lets stop talking about donuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday.... sucked. seriously! futsal training sucked. like, pointless la really. 6 girls only play what shit. my side table's infested by ants yanno? AND THEIR CRAWLING ALL OVER AND ITS PISSING ME OFF, I NEED SOME KINDA AWESOME INVENTION TO WIPE OUT THESE PUNY BASTARDS FROM THE FACE OF THE BLOODY UNIVERSE. ohk, no more anger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i dont like watching tripple X and their gonna show it on channel 5, so if i stay home today,most likely i'll be sleeping or watching one tree hill allover again, OH YA, HAHAHAHA OTH EPISODE 16 IS OUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.(HAVE YOU WATCHED IT DEZ?) can you please go watch it? its kinda cool and exciting watching peyton act like a retard in distress. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;some people believe that without history, our lives amount to nothing. at some point we all have to choose: do we fall back on what we know, or do we step forward to something new? its hard not to be haunted by our past. our history is what shapes us... what guides us. our history resurfaces time after time after time. so we have to remember sometimes the most important history is the history we are making today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-7960505096878140479?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/7960505096878140479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=7960505096878140479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7960505096878140479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7960505096878140479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/too-often-thing-you-want-most-is-one.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/Rj12YF6POxI/AAAAAAAAABU/Su08_BRCNjQ/s72-c/suckassronaldo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-5825716618968371738</id><published>2007-05-04T14:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T14:21:20.385+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;its hard to say forever, its hard to say i'll never ever go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br&gt;HAHA i just blogged,on my other blog for LMS. haha, i was cracking my brains wide open la! damn retarded, i wasnt allowed to type 'haha, hehe, hoho, fuck, shit, ass, hell' so it was quite difficult ohk. like writing some composition just that its informal. hahah rubbish. im hungry anyway. I have no school today! so pretty much still lazing on my bed. wahhaa. yesterday's soccer training was quite retarded also la. like no shooting practice and shit. wtf. we passed balls. and passed balls. and passed balls. and ran and did like physical exercises. NO GAME NO SHOOTING PRAC. wahseh. not fun. hope tmrws futsal will be damn fun. HOPE! somemore got boys to see eh not so bad! HAHA. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH, ya, during training yesterday, my seniors kept imitating the dragonboat training la. HAHA, DAMN DAMN DAMN FUNNY! their training like quite spastic la. run run run run, in the end also row boat only. but major plus point, the guys like damn hot la, BODS i mean. but if your bod damn sexy face ugly, SUPER turn off right. eeee. gross. actually i've got nothing to blog about, but since i was already in the page for LMS, might as well. todays happy hour, yay. a time to catch up with everyone else. and i know man utd lost 3-0.im still depressed so dont talk to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never said that i didnt need you,put down your arms and wrap them both, right around me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-5825716618968371738?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/5825716618968371738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=5825716618968371738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5825716618968371738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5825716618968371738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/its-hard-to-say-forever-its-hard-to-say.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-4451491463125362858</id><published>2007-05-02T15:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T15:38:11.284+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;turn over everything, time can heal us again. im tender in your arms. reaching inside of me, bringing the love i need, the loniness has gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guess your wondering why im back so early. muahaha. i ended at 11 today! well.. im supposed to attend a make-up lecture later on at 5-7 but i decided not to go cause im being a pig like i always am. haha, anyways, tmrw i have class till late at night so its kinda bothering and spoiling my day today! tmrw i've make-up BLAW lecture so actually makes so ass difference even when we have an assy labour day holiday. sucks even more cause we have to repay with the next few days of our school! but this week's e learning so it aint that bad! dont have to attend BCA, IAC and LMS classes. haha so im pretty much lessened of my burden you can say! tmrw soccer yayyyy, finally im getting a little exercise! i've been so much of a pig this holidays i even get tired after so much of the thought of climbing the stairs.HAHA. ohk la im quite fit really. haha. futsal on sat too! wha wha much exercise this week, i dont think i will die. right? ohk. so maybe i was a little skeptical that i'd actually have fun with my current classmates, guess they aint so bad afterall! guys are guys and they just make you laugh all the same right? &amp;amp; felicia you freaking idiot you can be my best friend and make fun of everyones names with me. haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha, i think you've been slow on my life, cause pretty alot has happened recently! haha. im still trying to accept some facts, and somehow trying to avoid the others. somehow im feeling like i dont wanna be tied down. on the other hand..... haha. dont tell you. anyway what im trying to tell you is.. no matter how much you try and run away from a situation, it always catches up with you, grabs your hand and pulls you back. bottom line? haha, you can never run away from reality. (no matter how hard you try and live in denial) its always there at the back of your mind and you just duwanna face it. yeah it'll slowly creep in, in time to come, you find yourself eaten up by this feeling. and nope, you cant stop it till you deal with it, fight it and kill it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so dont give up on me, our love is like the sea, surrounding me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-4451491463125362858?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/4451491463125362858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=4451491463125362858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4451491463125362858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4451491463125362858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/turn-over-everything-time-can-heal-us.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-7008118071518100257</id><published>2007-05-01T00:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T00:50:46.075+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;i say im looking for happiness, but when it comes, i run away from it. i tell myself i dont deserve this. theres not much that you can do, cause the rest is up to me, until i deal with it today, i'll keep on running.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the streets are dark my pulse is flat-lined as im running to you. you sit completely unaware of what im about to do. the air is think with tension much like when we are together. my fangs are aching as im pondering about you and i forever. as i round the corner i am nervous that you wont be my lover. i knock three times and hope that my pale complexion wont blow my cover. my brain is pumping an unusual secretion of lust. your eyes are softer now and your chin it drips a bloody colour of rust. i am raising up the stakes of this round,i am playing for keeps. would you like to leave this human race,tonight?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;follow me into the sea, we'll drown together and immortalize you and me, leave behind this lonely town, we are both better than this, its not worth being down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;eternity, will never be enough for me. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a thousand miles seems pretty far but we've got planes and trains and cars i'd walk to you if i'd had no other way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-7008118071518100257?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/7008118071518100257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=7008118071518100257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7008118071518100257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7008118071518100257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-say-im-looking-for-happiness-but-when.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-1084001012148217093</id><published>2007-04-29T23:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T00:51:09.772+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;wouldnt you go for something you really really want? and not shun away just because somethings in the way? cause thats just stupid, really really stupid. i cannot tell you how extremely stupid it is. guess you'll never get what you want if you dont ever go for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nobody wanna see us together, but it dont matter much, cause i've got you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-1084001012148217093?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/1084001012148217093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=1084001012148217093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/1084001012148217093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/1084001012148217093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/04/wouldnt-you-go-for-something-you-really.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-3381016463308070935</id><published>2007-04-26T20:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T21:10:11.545+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;for people who wanna take BS next year or whenever wherever or whatever! dont! CAUSE BCA SUCKS AND IS A COMPLETELY POINTLESS, RETARDED AND REDUNDANT MODULE! it teaches you exel, i mean who the hell would wanna learn abt EXEL? its sucha bore and it makes no sense at all. why use it when you can always use a calculator and your own damn brains! EXEL encourages people to be lazy, yeah convenient, BUT MAKES PEOPLE LAZY! so its actually a pretty stinky invention, imagine what our future generation would be! its like... TAXIS AND PUBLIC TRANSPORT!! not to go against it or anything, cause hell im as lazy to walk too, but it makes people lazy, and people take for granted! now you know why people are always late!haha. people like SERNZHI. AND LEONARD. AND KT. you guys stink la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;school ended at 5 today! kinda sucked, got like some useless 2 hr break in between, was practically staring at the four walls throughout the break la, minus eating and going to the toilet, there was like at least 1&amp;a half hr to like beat yourself up while waiting for class to start. met stinky demin cause he wanted to eat, HAHA i like totally forced him to the atrium to eat his stinky sandwiches cause i didnt wanna go to canteen 2. WHAHAHA. GOLD IS DOPE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;met kt ji and everyone else at the soccer court later on, haha bloody hell so packed, im like so shy la, later i make the boys malu den how? must be humble abit! WAHAH. tmrw classes start at 1 cause its an even week. yay!!!! finally duneed to wake at like freaking ungodly hours(well to me it is!). and its friday!! its totally happy hour time! wwheeee! oh i forgot what i wanted to say cause my mommy just sed, OI COME AND EAT LAH, BEFORE I EAT IT UP FOR YOU, (EVIL LAUGHTER)MUAHAHAHAHAA. ok i was messing with the last part, but food beckons! SYLA!(see you laturrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr alligator!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;i need you here tonight just like the ocean needs the waves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-3381016463308070935?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/3381016463308070935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=3381016463308070935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3381016463308070935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3381016463308070935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/04/for-people-who-wanna-take-bs-next-year.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-603775262471479867</id><published>2007-04-25T22:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-25T23:06:16.142+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;hey there party people! im watching the man united match replay! ahah although i like totally know the score, saw the goals already and know when its gonna happen, still kinda gets me all excited, heh, maybe because it was ROOONEYY who scored the winner, wahahha, yeah you know it! rooney the man!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, been thinking alot lately! haha bet i've lost a kezillion brain cells in the process! haha schools school and how good can it get man! hahaha been for soccer and, uhh. haha lets just say noting can beat queensway soccer! haha! lyeheng the man! no wait, ROONEY THE MAN! wahha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have you ever thought about making sense in falling in and out of love all over and over? haha, well, its quite stupid, i guess, cause yeah the same things come and go. you might say, why not give yourself a chance to be happy all over again, or like, you wouldnt know what would happen so we cannot really assume anything, but i guess some things just never changes. people lie, people fade away. and you might wanna consider the balance in life, cause happiness always walks hand in hand with sadness. you cant assure me you wouldnt hurt me, i cant assure you i wouldnt either, and if your willing to take a chance, it doesnt mean i am. sometimes, what we choose is not what we can always have, sometimes what we have is not always what we can choose. well that might be because there are other people to consider, feelings and friends. everything comes hand in hand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;give me your hand and you will see, your heart is keeping time with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-603775262471479867?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/603775262471479867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=603775262471479867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/603775262471479867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/603775262471479867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/04/hey-there-party-people-im-watching-man.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-7181555410120849457</id><published>2007-04-23T15:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T16:09:25.379+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;here's a night, and it shines. and it calls us on and on. so be here, by my side, and watch the stars, cause their ours. make a wish or just take charge, cause the moment comes and get lost and go far. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so begin, and breathe in. here's our chance to go for something, so this is where we win and take the game with no blame. there's a neon light inside that shines, and tearing down the walls in the way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think that we've got what it takes to get this heart start beating again, so take it all the way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our hearts are on the everglow. deep inside we both know it, and everythings hanging on this moment. every action makes a reaction and we'll figure it out and make it happen. so just let go and fall into it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the light is bright enough to save the weakest ones but you're in the running, and dont give up or you'll fade away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you promised to be my everything, then left me without a thing, how can i trust you again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-7181555410120849457?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/7181555410120849457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=7181555410120849457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7181555410120849457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7181555410120849457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/04/ive-got-letter-i-would-like-to-send-its.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-2182300940887015750</id><published>2007-04-23T00:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T00:23:32.746+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;so i guess when you have to choose between two loved ones drowning the duration you take to decide who to save would have probably killed both of them. so we actually do not have a choice, we either die together? or... die together. or we dont die and let the drowning drown and feel horribly like shit for the next few years. so, its like you've come to a dead end. and no one can help you cause whatever decision you make breaks the other way. so whats best for me? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;i cant help myself now, i dont think anyone else can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-2182300940887015750?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/2182300940887015750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=2182300940887015750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2182300940887015750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2182300940887015750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/04/so-i-guess-when-you-have-to-choose.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-3233712839839104903</id><published>2007-04-19T21:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T22:33:42.058+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;hi, im really really really really bored(if you can tell cause im doing shit like these), i found this and apparently mi gonna become an idiot in 23849723984hrs if i dont complete this, HAHAHA NOTTTT!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;1. How old do you wish you were? 5&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;2. Where were you when 9/11 happened? haha sleeping i guess, feels like im always sleeping, HHAHA!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;3. What do you do when vending machines steal your money? haha kick the damn machine! then i'll prolly curse and swear at the bloody lousy invention!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;4. Do you consider yourself kind? damn straight!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;5. If you had to get a tattoo, where would it be? haha on my face, i always wanted to look like a clown. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;6. If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be? any other lauguage, you didnt give me a choice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;7. Do you know your neighbours? hahaha, what do you think? one sings like a frog and the other one is mentally unstable, im not safe living here!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;8. What do you consider a vacation? haha when i have lotsa$$$$$ to go shooping. whaha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;9. Do you follow your horoscope? hahaa, i always read abt it, but i dont really care, some magazines telling me bird shits gonna land on my head today? shit happens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;10. Would you move for the person you love? HAHAHAHA, i would move for donuts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;11. Are you touchy-feely? hahaha, i think if your fart sounds high pitched, you have a tight ass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;12. Do you believe that opposites attract? hahaha i dont know, i guess so, cs kaypess is an ass and im so nice and he loves me,so yeah MAYBE!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;14. Favourite tv channels? hahah, channel 8, my fav, CHINESE!!(HAHHHAHAA)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;15. Favourite place to go on weekends? haha anywhere and everywhere,aslong as its with my fav bunch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;16. Showers or baths? haha neither, i dont like bathing, i usually bathe like once every 2 months, just like kayps!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;17. Do you paint your nails? NO! i have hobbit like nails and if i paint em i'll look retarded.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;18. Do you trust people easily? is that a question??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;19. What are your phobias? bugs! i hate bugs! i eat bugs! did i just say that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;20. Do you want kids? AHHAHA no i hate kids. HAHA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;21. Do you keep a handwritten journal? yeah, im gona publish it soon, the diary of bridget teo, please support me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;22. Where would you rather be now? eating a hell lot of seafood!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;23. Who makes you warm and fuzzy? haha, my bobo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;24. Heavy or light sleeper? light, blow a trumpet at my ears im sure to wake up.(HAH)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;25. Are you paranoid? hah yes, most of the time i dont step on the cracks cs im afraid i would fall and break my back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;26. Are you impatient? yes, i hate waiting for buses, esp when they take their own sweet time to get me to my destination! bloody dickheads! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;27. Who can you relate to? haha kayps? he's living the life..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;28. How do you feel about interracial couples? haha, they contrast! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;30. What's your pick-up line? haha, hi i own a baboon, would youlike to see it? his name is kahtien. (HAHAHAHAHAHA)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;31. What's your main ringtone on your mobile? haha DONT MOVE BY BUTCH WALKERRRRRR.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;32. What were you doing at midnight last night? i was in the phuture, i saw many flying cars and robot people cleaning my ass for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;33. What did the last text on your mobile say? er.. cant rmb, lazy to check my phone, it prolly sed something like.........................................................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;34. Whose bed did you sleep in last night? my own, duh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;35. What colour shirt are you wearing? some gren watermelon teeshirt, i can actually smell the fruit!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;36. Most recent movie you watched? shOOter i guess, cant rmb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;37. Name three things you have on at all times? 3 sets of panties. keeps me warm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;38. What colour are your bedsheets? GREEN! haha yes i can smell watermelons on my bed too!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;39. How much cash do you have right now? 67cents&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;40. What's your favourite part of the chicken? the eye ball, its really tiny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;41. What's your favourite town/city? hahaha, bikini bottom&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;42. I can't wait 'til: LUNCH TMR!PRAWN MEE MY GANDMA COOKING!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;43. What did you have for dinner last night? food?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;44. How tall are you barefoot? 1.97m, damn right i am tall.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;45. Do you own a gun? yup! when i pull the trigger, a dart comes out of it and it sticks to glass! how cool and exciting!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;46. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? drinks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;47. Where do you think you'll be in 10 years? RICH AS HELL. WAHHAA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;48. Last thing you ate? grandma's famous nasi lemak. woo power.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;49. What songs do you sing in the shower? bubble bath oo oo ooo ooo ooooo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;50. Last thing that made you laugh? anything makes me laugh actually. my friends always tell me that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;51. Worst injury you ever had? when a car hit me on my right side and i was almost paralyzed. yup, it was tragic):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;52. Does someone have a crush on you? does that make me cool?if so den yes.(:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;53. What's your favourite candy? CANDY!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;54. What song do you want played at your funeral? im not gonna die, dont you know? im immortal!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;55. Eight people to do this? haha,more like 800 cs if you dont you'll become an idiotic moronand i'll be the smartest bitch on the planet!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;i hate knowing things before they happen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-3233712839839104903?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/3233712839839104903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=3233712839839104903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3233712839839104903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3233712839839104903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/04/hi-im-really-really-really-really.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-3104570114585357129</id><published>2007-04-18T13:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T13:48:16.039+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;yup its true, everyones talking about it! the V. tech shootings. well because some whack korean dude shot and killed like 30 over people, we asians are probably gonna be condemed for life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh ya, this shooting totally reminded me of one tree hill(S3E16), when that brain-injured jimmy edwards shot peyton, only that she din die and he did. OMG TOTAL DEJAVU! guess this korean dude watched OTH as well cause he re-enacted the whole scence just that he was successful in killing many other people, and din hold any people hostage. but he did manage to kill himself in the end just like jimmy edwards. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well. its quite scary and insane come to think of it, like what the hell you think could trouble such a young mind that would make him go around shooting innocent people. and uhh, according to the news, he was a loner, which makes it much freakier!(and kinda makes every puzzle fit in the right place) yanno when ya watch those psycho killer movies, and the killer always happens to be a very alienated person and shuts the whole world out and acts kinda retardedly? yeah! thats like so true, just that this time it really is real. and, we know all this, just that we never see it coming. but i mean who the hell would think that some quiet dude would pull out a gun and start shooting people, its too movie like and almost unrealistic, BUT REALISTIC! but i mean we cant prevent what we cant predict. so i guess we'll just have to learn and look back every once in awhile. and pray that it doesnt happen to anyone of us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;what we're going through daily isnt really hard at all, cause there are situations like these which are much bigger than us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-3104570114585357129?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/3104570114585357129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=3104570114585357129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3104570114585357129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3104570114585357129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/04/yup-its-true-everyones-talking-about-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-4415881446584888984</id><published>2007-04-17T12:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T12:59:02.453+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;kp was just a extra addition, cause he's such a darling!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(fyi, CHECK OUT KAYTS PICTURE. WAHHAHA)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RiRP6f31VEI/AAAAAAAAABE/D846suU-ncA/s1600-h/collage4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054252548223226946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RiRP6f31VEI/AAAAAAAAABE/D846suU-ncA/s320/collage4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;so its the 2nd day of school! and i miss my friends already! haha owells, GUESS WHAT! my lecture was supposed to end at 11 this morning and it ended at 10! haha, and i thought a 4 hr break was long! well, socks, lynette and i didnt wanna attend law lecture so here i am, at home! haha! went to check out some (hidden)jap food all the way at the back of NP. i pity the people taking sciences seriously, they have to walk all the way up the goddamn hill everyday la.wth. thats poor building planning now. have you realised how screwed up the weather is? so it fking hot! anyways, i have no school tmrw, wahahahaha!! cs tutorials arent on on the first week. if only there wasnt any tutorials every alternate week! woo! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;and oh! i signed up for wakeboarding! the dude was damn hot la. like damn tanned and shit. but yanno what, its like 40 bucks per training? thats like mega extortion of $$. isnt the school supposed to take care of such shit? anyways, think imma stick soccer la, its like so much easier, for me that is. haha or i might take up hockey with gerald? haha i dont know! haha. poly kinda sucks eh,(i know ive been saying that!) dont think you can find such good friends, unlike in sec school, when we were still moulding into ourselves, and the people around you all click. its like so different in poly, people have their own cliques, characters clash, and we dont get along like we do in sec school! we're so different! its so hard! im sooo lookng forward to friday, party + catch up time. yay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;maybe its best you leave me alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-4415881446584888984?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/4415881446584888984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=4415881446584888984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4415881446584888984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4415881446584888984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/04/kp-was-just-extra-addition-cause-hes.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RiRP6f31VEI/AAAAAAAAABE/D846suU-ncA/s72-c/collage4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-5607531106964788587</id><published>2007-04-14T18:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T18:33:02.866+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RiCp4f31VDI/AAAAAAAAAA8/RmJN5SjZ-2A/s1600-h/hello.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053225570003145778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RiCp4f31VDI/AAAAAAAAAA8/RmJN5SjZ-2A/s320/hello.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RiCpDP31VBI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Ma8nsUmeiPA/s1600-h/DSC00514.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053224655175111698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RiCpDP31VBI/AAAAAAAAAAs/Ma8nsUmeiPA/s320/DSC00514.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;heeyyy there stupid assholes. guess whos back. hah. anyways, have i mentioned that i've been clubbing 4 times in the period of2 weeks? how whack is that! like somehow kinda getting sick and tired of it too. hahaha. well to sum up the very very very very loooooooooong holidays, haha, life's been HELLA AWESOME! now that school's around the corner, kinda not feeling of wanting the holidays to end! haha, when we've just ended secondary life, most of us were eagerly anticipating to enter poly, well not anymore!! haha! cause honestly? i think poly life stinksssssssss! and you'd think that out of 14,000 students in the school, there'd bound to be at least 1 or 2 hotties, HAHA sorry to burst yo bubble there, ngee ann's students all look like toot faces, well that obviously excludes me, (HAHAHAHAHA) and MAYBBBBEEEEEEE sern zhi and kt(YES I'VE SAID IT). haha!i dont wanna go back to school so help meeee. and ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh, its been awhile since i've posted pictures ya think? haha, i've been so dark and depressed, boohoo.HAHAHA. NOTTTTTTT, ohk, so i've decided to grab life by its horns, yes i have. HAHA, cause being all dark and twisty sucks! i've wasted half my holiday feeling like shit, and its MY TURN TO FINALLY HAVE SOME FUCKING FUN! WOO. (im not vulgar really) haha, OH if my moods really great, i'll let you see some cool pictures of kt and sernzhi and dez, den you can feel my fun. HAHA cause right now, YOU DONT KNOW WHAT YA MISSING OUT ON! HAHAHA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RiCocP31VAI/AAAAAAAAAAk/kPQN3hV75II/s1600-h/13042007102.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053223985160213506" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RiCocP31VAI/AAAAAAAAAAk/kPQN3hV75II/s320/13042007102.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-5607531106964788587?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/5607531106964788587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=5607531106964788587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5607531106964788587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5607531106964788587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/04/heeyyy-there-stupid-assholes.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RiCp4f31VDI/AAAAAAAAAA8/RmJN5SjZ-2A/s72-c/hello.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-4073798496208200140</id><published>2007-04-11T20:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T22:41:59.214+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RhzV8_31U_I/AAAAAAAAAAc/oEbG-02W9wk/s1600-h/alansmith275_ad_e.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RhzVb_31U9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PHpDVuT6b9E/s1600-h/alansmith_ad_e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052147558981653458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RhzVb_31U9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PHpDVuT6b9E/s320/alansmith_ad_e.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; "Manchester United produced one of their finest ever performances in Europeancompetition to overwhelm AS Roma 7-1 on Tuesday night and reach the semi-finals of the Champions League for the first time since 2002. United, trailing 2-1 from the first meeting in Rome, had never previously overturned a first leg deficit in five attempts in the competition but did so in remarkable style."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;woooo.if you'd watched the match, bet you'd still be stunned! it was awesommmmeeeeeeee. OMG, OMG, NINTENDO, NINTENDO, SICKS TEA PHOAR!!(ok you might not know what im talking about here)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;haha and if you missed it then too bad, cause its probably one of the best matches in champion league histories! wooooohoo! haha anyway, this is one of the happy posts you'll get to see, in a very long run. hahaha. so cheer for man utd to win every match like they did yesterday, den i'll write a happy post every week. heh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;school's starting soon btw! and its sucks! no more late night outings to no where with my darlings dez ji kt tabs cheryl &amp; borky. who the hell wanted school to start sooner!!!!???? i hate school. its like you have to start all over again, alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;and when you thought it all ended.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-4073798496208200140?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/4073798496208200140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=4073798496208200140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4073798496208200140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4073798496208200140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/04/manchester-united-produced-one-of-their.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_H2YUPujN--Q/RhzVb_31U9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/PHpDVuT6b9E/s72-c/alansmith_ad_e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-8354009990012531982</id><published>2007-04-08T02:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-08T03:23:10.233+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;SCREW YOU FERDINAND, AND YO LITTLE DOG TOO! fuck rubbish match! argh! what the hell happened to park ji sung! why the fuck was richardson in the starting eleven! now you know why ya lost! dude, richardson can play soccer for nuts, he makes my grandma look like beckham.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;NO ONE LIKES RICHARDSON! GET HIM OFF THE DAMN SQUAD!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-8354009990012531982?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/8354009990012531982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=8354009990012531982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8354009990012531982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8354009990012531982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/04/screw-you-ferdinand-and-yo-little-dog.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-5582117342899168875</id><published>2007-04-07T18:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T19:54:09.897+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fateisneverinourhands</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;someone once explained to me that when fate comes into play, choice sometimes goes out the window. maybe Romeo and Juliet were fated to be together, but just for a while, and then their time passed. if they could have known that beforehand, maybe it all would have been okay. but hell, Juliet was an idiot. for one thing, she falls for the one guy she knows she can't have. everyone thinks it's so romantic; Romeo and Juliet, true love. how sad. if Juliet was stupid enough to fall for the enemy, drink a bottle of poison, and go to sleep in a mausoleum, then she deserved everything she got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i told that someone when i was grown up, i'd take fate into my own hands. i wouldn't let some guy drag me down. that someone said that i'd be lucky if i ever had that kind of passion with someone, and if i did, we'd be together forever. even now, i believe that for the most part, love is about choices. it's about putting down the poison and the dagger and making your own happy ending, most of the time. and sometimes, despite all your best intentions, fate wins anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;ever get that feeling, when you look into someone's eyes, and get some kind of sixth sense, when the great beyond is headed for you, you feel it coming. what's the one thing you've always dreamed of doing before you died?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-5582117342899168875?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/5582117342899168875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=5582117342899168875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5582117342899168875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/5582117342899168875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/04/fateisneverinourhands.html' title='fateisneverinourhands'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-7334579619304392065</id><published>2007-04-04T00:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T01:39:48.731+08:00</updated><title type='text'>if the sun would somehow shine again</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;ever heard your heart breaking? by a whisper of a word, or the sight of a photograph? that moment, when you know, everything crumbles, hopes and dreams shatter, and chances fade away. that moment, when no matter how hard you try to live in denial, you know the truth, and that just bites you right in the ass, or rather, your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do you ever think that second chances are lies? it probably is, cause people dont see you for who you are, but who you were. no one wants to believe that someone has changed, because its so difficult to, almost impossible, but possible. and when you're gone they dont remember you, like you've had suddenly vanished from the face of the planet, and we thought absence was supposed to make the heart grow fonder? right...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if there wasn't a point getting something back together again, then i guess you'll forever be wondering 'what if'. cause lets face the music here, no one knows what gonna happen, for all you know, things might turn out better, for all you know, we could be happy again. these things aint fate, it also aint because YOU are YOU, and YOU can never change.. its whether you want to make it work, or not. dont tell me that same things are gonna happen, it might, it might not, its pretty unpredictable if you ask me. cause i've heard, life is full of surprises. i mean, what the hell happened to faith, belief and hope? they're there, in each and everyone one of us, we just have to dig down and find it. so dont tell me, there isn't a point, cause im getting pretty sick and tired of people telling me that. cause thats just an excuse to run away from reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;when you act like, nothing ever happened, i feel like, i should feel bad. but i cant like someone who thought, their the only one that mattered, i hope that you're flattered, cause you broke this down. the best thing you never had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-7334579619304392065?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/7334579619304392065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=7334579619304392065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7334579619304392065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/7334579619304392065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/04/if-sun-would-somehow-shine-again.html' title='if the sun would somehow shine again'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-8165043411598675256</id><published>2007-03-28T17:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T17:42:00.614+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;disappearances happen. pains go phantom. blood stops running and people, people fade away. there's more i have to say, so much more, but, i disappeared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;people die everyday. but i believe we can survive this. i believe in the good. i believe that its been a hell of a year, in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, that &lt;strong&gt;we will be okay&lt;/strong&gt;. i believe alot of things. i believe that my friends will always be there for me, and i believe that if i eat a tub of butter and no one sees, that the calories dont count. and i believe that when i tell you you're making a terrible mistake we will be okay because i believe that you're my best friend. i believe that even though you have made a mistake, you'd be okay. i believe we survive. i believe that believing we survive, is what makes us survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;as she sits in the corner, face to the floor. she dispells smoke from her lips, and slowly floats away with it. if letting go was so much pain, and tears were thick enough to stain, the pavement that slowly become her bestfriend when she needs to run away. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-8165043411598675256?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/8165043411598675256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=8165043411598675256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8165043411598675256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8165043411598675256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/03/disappearances-happen.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-3878050357985939122</id><published>2007-03-27T18:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T19:34:06.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;baby let &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;me just save you the time. i can see where this is g&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;oing, tears will fall and hearts will break. love's a game we all must play, so dry your eyes and be on your way, as for me, i'll be okay.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;i talk to you as to a friend, i hope thats how you've come to be. &lt;strong&gt;are we back now where it all began?&lt;/strong&gt; have you finally forgiven me? it feels as though we've made amends, like we found a way eventually. it was you who picked the pieces up, when i was a broken soul, and glued me back together, returned me to what others stole. you gathered my dreams in, when they all blew away, and tricked them back into me. you saved me when i was almost dead. i dont wanna hurt you, i dont wanna make you sway, like i know i've done before, i will not do it anymore. i've always been a dreamer, i've had my head among the clouds, now that im coming down, wont you be my solid ground?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;we think we need so many useless things, when all we really need is time to breathe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-3878050357985939122?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/3878050357985939122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=3878050357985939122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3878050357985939122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3878050357985939122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/03/baby-let-me-just-save-you-time.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-6192004155544049483</id><published>2007-03-17T16:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-17T17:25:13.331+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;its not always rainbows and butterflies, its compromise that moves us along&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have you realised that love always turns to hate? yeah its this evil process that almost everyone goes through. i dont know how to explain it, or maybe i just dont want to, because if i do, there'll probably be none of space left for me to say anything else, cause i might just explode, but hell, you'd be bored to death reading my sob story. you know what sucks more.. is that when you feel that your life only revolves around one stupid person, yeah that feeling of NOT letting go. well, its not that you dont want to, its just, you want to so much it hurts. and thank god for friends, cause they always make things better. well, theres gotta be more to life right? theres gotta be more to life than stupid and petty fights, or like what im gonna wear today, or like shes prettier than me, i need a face lift, or feeling like someone else is better. honestly, we are not at fault for who we are, and its not nice feeling like crap for what someone else has done, or is doing. i mean, hello, makes no goddamn sense. because then soon after, we start to regret and try to pin all blame on yourself, which is obviously the dumbest thing anyone could ever do, or if that doesnt work, we curse and swear at god himself, and ask him, to bring back the 'good old times'(HAH). but you see, the good things tend to fade away faster than any other thing does. &lt;strong&gt;but if it fades away, then maybe it wasnt even good to begin with.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;trying to drag me down, and fill me with self doubt, im so over it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-6192004155544049483?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/6192004155544049483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=6192004155544049483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/6192004155544049483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/6192004155544049483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/03/its-not-always-rainbows-and-butterflies.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-4929825568120202182</id><published>2007-03-08T15:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-08T15:06:46.489+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>you know how when you were a little kid and you believed in fairy tales, that fantasy of what your life would be, white dress, prince charming who would carry you away to a castle on a hill. you would lie in bed at night and close your eyes and you had complete and utter faith. santa claus, the tooth fairy, prince charming, they were so close you could taste them, but eventually you grow up, one day you open your eyes and the fairy tale disappears. most people turn to the things and people they can trust. but the thing is its hard to let go of that fairy tale entirely cause almost everyone has that smallest bit of hope, of faith, that one day they will open their eyes and it will come true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at the end of the day faith is a funny thing. it turns up when you don't really expect it. it's like one day you realize that the fairy tale may be slightly different than you dreamed. the castle, well, it may not be a castle. and it's not so important happy ever after, just that its happy right now. see once in a while, once in a blue moon, people will surprise you , and once in a while people may even take your breath away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;here's my heart and soul, please grind them into hamburger, and enjoy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-4929825568120202182?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/4929825568120202182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=4929825568120202182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4929825568120202182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/4929825568120202182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/03/you-know-how-when-you-were-little-kid.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-8515268275552350178</id><published>2007-03-06T18:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T18:55:07.248+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>when you come to a dead end; no people to turn to, no place to run to, how do we survive? how do we cope with now being able to lean onto something? how do we cope with no legs to stand on? somehow, or someway, no matter how hard we try to pray and ask for help, it aint gonna come. so we either stand or we fall. some crumble to dust and some stall with no direction, but some, very few, pick themselves up, all over again. they start running back, to the start from where they came from, and begin from the end. from there, we can rewrite almost every page of our lives, and we can choose all over again, which path we should lead. and when we finally succeed, when we finally get there, things will be much easier, you wouldnt have believed that things would be this right again. but the hardest part to getting there, is being alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;perhaps we all give the best of our hearts uncritically, &lt;strong&gt;to those who hardly think about us in return.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-8515268275552350178?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/8515268275552350178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=8515268275552350178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8515268275552350178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/8515268275552350178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/03/when-you-come-to-dead-end-no-people-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-3137647063851130534</id><published>2007-02-26T02:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T16:01:10.679+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If I close one eye, take in the truth, block out the lies; will this loneliness finally die?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no one will believe their live will turn out just kinda okay. we all think we are gonna be great. and from the day we decide to be who we really meant to be, we are filled with expectations. expectations of the people we will help, the difference we will make. great expectations of who we will be, where we will go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but sometimes our expectations sell us short. sometimes the expected simply fails in comparison to the unexpected. and you gotta wonder why we cling to our expectations, because the expected is what keeps us steady standing still; the expected is just the beginning, the unexpected is what changes our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so whats the deal in heartbreaks anyway? do you get people who hang on to relationships sometimes? when all they do is say words to hurt each other? do you think there ever is a love so strong, a love that'll conquer all odds, despite its difficulty? well, i think that all we believe we love, is a lie. love is overrated. there isnt such a thing anymore. its a habit. and we 'love', because we have to, because we want to, because everyone else is doing it! and people just get together and break up, and at the end of the day, we just hurt ourselves all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I am unraveling unbearably empty, and if this ground gives way I just hope that you'll catch me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;you want to work, to spend, to show. you want to talk, to smile, to feel. you want to run, to thirst, to drink. you want to love, to know it's real.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;i do it on a whim, its rhyme without reason, whatever comes to mind, i'll pull it from thin air. i've learned to improvise, to fill my time. i dont want to live this life with no motivation, following this line, and i don't know why. but i've learned to capture time it's my redirection, i don't want to live this life, no i don't want to live this life, without reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-3137647063851130534?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/3137647063851130534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=3137647063851130534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3137647063851130534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/3137647063851130534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/02/no-one-will-believe-their-live-will.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-2908241599788053932</id><published>2007-02-12T22:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T22:03:52.450+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>one of the hardest things to do is saying goodbye and letting go. it is as hard as breaking a crystal because you'll never know when you will be able to pick up the pieces again. more often than not, they who go, feel not the pain of parting: it is they who stay behind that suffer, because they are left with memories of a love that was meant to be, a love that was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we are embarrassed to find ourselves alone. unfair as it may seem, but that's the way love goes. that's the drama, the bittersweet and the risk of falling in love. after all, nothing is constant but change. everything will eventually come to its end without us knowing when, without us knowing how, without us even knowing why. and we must forget not because we want to but because we have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in letting go, sorrows come not as a single spy but in batallion. it seems that everywhere you go, everything you do, every song you hear, every turn of your head, every move of your body, every beat of your heart, every blink of your eye and every breath you take always reminds you of him. it's like a stab of a knife, a torture in the night. funny how the whole world becomes depopulated when only one person is missing. just imagine, there are billion people on earth and yet it seems you feel lonely and empty without the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same. and the worst part of letting go is that its the only thing to do. cause whats holding onto something thats not holding onto you. eventually it will all just fade away, and everything will be alright again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;cause i pray that you'll come back someday, but lets not count on that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-2908241599788053932?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/2908241599788053932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=2908241599788053932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2908241599788053932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/2908241599788053932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/02/one-of-hardest-things-to-do-is-saying.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-117077832298639497</id><published>2007-02-06T23:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T00:12:03.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>so whats karma? like when you do something good to someone you get it back? like when you break someones heart, and get it back? bull? yeah bull. cause no matter how good you are to someone, you always tend to get some shit in return. and the person who gave you shit, well always goes away free. SO WHATS KARMA? hell, no one can explain it, not even alicia keys i tell you, cause shes dumb and she doesnt know whats karma either. maybe when i die i'll ask. cause feels like, hope, faith and dreams are all bullshit too. and if you believe in it, then you're a bigger fool for worshiping these feelings man made. isnt it? who wrote these rules and regulations? god? no. people. stupid people who has everyone wrapped around their fingers. maybe its because no one wants to get fined. so whoever invented money ought to be punched in the face cause its the dumbest invention ever. its got people fighting and screaming and dying and breaking up and selling their asses. i mean who the hell wants to do what? money does! so if your very in love with money, then you can go to hell, or rather, if your in love,then you can also do the same, cause your gonna get your heart broken very soon. cause love is bullshit too! is there such a thing anyway? maybe not maybe its a test maybe its a game maybe im getting too obsessed in blogging that it hurts to tell the world what im feeling and typing without punctuation. owells, whatever you do, please dont follow what im saying, because it only applies on me. and my house has just been repainted, my bedroom walls are red and black, come check-it-oooouuuuuuut!(HAHA)ohk not, their actually just white with a few rooney pictures, and the chemical smells are driving me craz-yy. and hello? CHEENA NEW YEAR IS COMINGGG, OMGWTFBBQ? food + money. muahaha, ok look, im a living example of being obsessed with the demon money. DAMN? someone tell me im not crazy please, cause lets face it, everyones obsessed with demon money, so everyone can go to hell! hah! gotcha! ohk. and is it just me or are the days getting colder? its the end of the world bitches, trust me, kill yourself while you can. bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;yes i like you, i dont love you, i cant love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-117077832298639497?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/117077832298639497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=117077832298639497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/117077832298639497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/117077832298639497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/02/so-whats-karma-like-when-you-do.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-117034993869151964</id><published>2007-02-02T00:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T01:12:18.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>yeah time heals all wounds, but dont take time, cause its not worth the wait. cause life goes on, and others out there are giving you all of their hearts to care for you, and dont make them worry. cause what your dragging your mind on, doesnt deserve so much attention. your life shouldnt revolve around someone who doesnt even give a shit, someone who has no time. well let me just say, theres no place like home, cause its when shit has been thrown on you that people you depend on all your life is there to help you clean it up, and comfort you. and tell you that &lt;strong&gt;everything's gonna be alright.&lt;/strong&gt; cause thats all i actually wanna hear for so long now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;theres always hope, but dont count on it. its always there to disappoint. so just let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so dont go begging  for love cause it will come finding for you. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;because love will find a way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&amp;amp; all the memories fade with time, cause im too young to worry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-117034993869151964?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/117034993869151964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=117034993869151964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/117034993869151964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/117034993869151964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/02/yeah-time-heals-all-wounds-but-dont.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116997718817763361</id><published>2007-01-28T16:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T17:39:48.246+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/498189/SP_A2415.jpg" border="0" /&gt;cause suddenly, i've got nothing more to say. cause nothing else can fill that void. cause its only when you've given up, and when all other hope is lost, the good things come back to you. and then you feel uncertain of the pain that will come again. and only when we've realised that what we had, is lost, we start to regret. and it'll be too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/739413/SP_A2402.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/355318/SP_A2402.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so what if you'd that chance to make things right? to understand. and heal? you might say, it might not be real, and that your living a fantasy, but whats so bad about that. if you wont even try, then you'll never know. if you dont even dream, then i guess you'll never accomplish it. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/817668/26012007019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/356119/26012007019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/901778/SP_A2407.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/157769/SP_A2407.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and im trying my best to hold onto your hand, and sometimes i wonder what the hell am i doing, cause i dont know how much longer i can take. and when you come back, i might not be here. i wanna understand you, believe me, but your not giving me a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;silly me, why am i typing this, you'd wouldnt have the time to have the slightest thought of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;what should you do when it feels like your holding onto nothing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116997718817763361?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116997718817763361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116997718817763361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116997718817763361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116997718817763361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/01/cause-suddenly-ive-got-nothing-more-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116910450988923796</id><published>2007-01-18T14:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-18T15:15:09.916+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/758141/SP_A2336.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/689194/SP_A2336.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; hi shimmy! you're still anything but handsome btw! hahaha. you know, i've ben craving for dimsum since god knows when! you keep telling me we'll go shim. im so gonna smack your white ass? haha. dimsum anyonnnneeeeeeeeeeeeeee. oh btw, its ironic that i work at zara but i've never the time to look at em clothes. haha. carms and me went to zara ngeeanncity yesterday and realised that the clothes werent that impressive either!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha have you been told my 2nd home is currently seahstreetdeli. omgwtfbbq. theres absolutely zero things to do there, no cute guys to look at either, cept maybe for homing,(sorry shim, you din make the cut!) hahaa, pretty girls also dont have, NOT THAT I LOOK AT ANY. but there should be a standard right? i mean its raffles hotel, we shouldnt make tourists barf all over their food while staying here right, now i know why our tourists arrivals each year is plunging. hahaha its because of people like shimmy? hahaha. ok im joking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/355070/carm&amp;me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/840012/carm%26me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so im waitng like an hour for the fag doc cause i totally skipped on work today. weekdays also people go see doc meh? looks like im not the only one taking personal offs from work. hahaha. been super tired lately.not that i dont have myself to blame, cause i keep going home at 2 in the morning and the next day im totally working morning shifts.. haha thank god my off's on saturdayyyyy. yay. im working fullshift tmrw so good luck to me. no more going home at 2 today pls. haha thats if we dont go find people at seahstreetdeli again. and again. and again again and again again again. anyways im so looking forward to donuts! thanks for waiting 1 hr and 15 mins for it la shim.haha. and cheer your white ass up kays. haha. you can always help us buy donuts again if your feeling really really really really bad. hahaha! everyone else is feeling like a bitch and im rather happy, and i have no idea why! haha. my mood is like way way way way up, and everyone elses is like, way way below the ground. hahaha smile la. smile smile smile smile smile. this can really make you smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/592950/SP_A2337.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/949049/SP_A2337.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; hahahha you look hot in em suspenders baby, red blue and black hot! hahaha! can i laugh at you baby?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;i need to start to be myself, cause im sick of everybody else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/438954/SP_A2336.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/454183/carm&amp;amp;me.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116910450988923796?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116910450988923796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116910450988923796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116910450988923796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116910450988923796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/01/hi-shimmy-youre-still-anything-but.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116834501137471117</id><published>2007-01-09T18:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T20:19:03.070+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>when you break something into pieces and put it back together all over again, the cracks are still visible. no matter how many times we apologise, or how sincere we are when we say we're sorry, certain words pierce right through the heart, and no matter how hard we try to mend things back together again, somethings will always stay and never go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when someone tells you that they somehow stopped missing you, or caring for you and how unimportant you've become, you're fucked. cause there's probably nothing at all you can do about it, cause sorry wont even fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and we need to find the way back to the right track, can someone please help me find the door. is it too much to ask, too much too fast, too much to ignore? it feels like the stars are getting closer and the sky is closing in, and i dont know where to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we're all looking for something to take away the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cause people dont change. at the end of the day you are who you are and thats probably who you've always been. people can change, but just they dont, because its easier not to. we're always waiting for our lives to begin, like figuring that we'll be someone else some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love is just a hoax so forget everything that you've ever heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;words mean nothing, only emotions matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116834501137471117?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116834501137471117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116834501137471117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116834501137471117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116834501137471117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/01/when-you-break-something-into-pieces.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116824570073218822</id><published>2007-01-08T16:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T16:41:40.746+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>just for the record, 2007 fucking sucks. cause somehow feels like everything you want and everything you need  and everything you have, is lost. i cant say im always right, and i cant say im always wrong, but can someone please tell me, how can i ever erase the hurt and the pain and the scars that are always left behind? i dont wanna act like the whole damn world owes me a living, but how can we ever pretend like we are alright when we're not. how can we say sorry and mean it? how can we show that we're truely there for the ones we love, and how sincere we can be when we want them back after a mistake? i wish to be perfect, but im sorry im not. i wish to be the best, for everyone out there, for you, but i cant, and it sucks. but i promise i'll try, if you give me a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you love someone, and if you'd try your best not to hurt them, but its comes around and shoots you in the foot, what will you do? or, when you get hurt, and have so many people to turn to, but all of them combined aint enough to heal you. or like when you hold on so tightly to someone but somehow or rather, they turn to water and just keep slipping away. or like when you cry yourself to sleep, and parts of your life just keep coming back to you. i dont need sympathy, i dont need this. but something is there that just keeps pulling me back, and i cant let go. some call this love. but im not reallly sure what love is. someone enlighten me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116824570073218822?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116824570073218822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116824570073218822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116824570073218822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116824570073218822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/01/just-for-record-2007-fucking-sucks.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116763782943965820</id><published>2007-01-01T14:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T01:12:57.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>heyho ther. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;merry merry new year all!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; its been a great year? i'd say so! cs it was a year that was a blessing in disguise. however, there will always be certain people, or certain situations to screw everything up. but you see, if we hadnt manage to scrutinize every single detail and make such a big fuss out of everything, the year would have passed much much muchh smoother. cant say i wasnt being a petty bitch at points during the year either, im sure everyone has. the year passed so quick, now we're all back at the start again. except, things are a little different, ok, more like, very different. because at the beginning of 2006, i was waiting for something that wasnt there. now that im here, i have everything i want, but somehow feels like it isnt enough. its funny how we never take into consideration the importance of that someone being there, till they aint there anymore. i guess this feeling of dissatisfaction comes from the fear of losing that person you hold dear. the fear of drifting, that fear of losing the love. cause trying to find it back after losing it, its like trying to roll a ball up a hill. cause trying to find it back, sure is hard as hell. whats more, theres so much to do, and time. well, thats one thats hard to come by. so little time? no. theres always time to do what we want with the people we love. nothing else matters really, the choice is yours, you choose which pill to take. because i believe if you really want something badly, nothing can stop you. not money, not your friends, not even time. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;and then thats 101% of your heart put into it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ok pardon my emo-ness on new years day. things have been very bothering, and im feeling like monkey crap. i keep thinking. when i try not to think, i still think! so its pretty terrible if you ask me. cs its constantly in my thoughts. i think the problem burried its feet in my mind, and the only way to get it out, is to kill it, i have no idea how. ok you probably have zero idea what im talking about, because honestly i myself have no idea. ok i actually do, but its kinda difficult to explain, and even if i could, i wouldnt explain it and type the whole chunk out for the WWW to see. i mean, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;kpo people will read and i dont like kpo people to read&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, like you reading this, kpo person. anways do you like punctuation? i know of someone who doesnt like punctuation and is always in my thoughts but i dont think i am on the other side so if your reading this (you kpo person) you'll probably be out of breath now or rather bored to death cs your reading this very very very long sentence without any punctuation see how cool it is to type without punctuation now im setting a trend yes im a trend setter. try saying it out! ok btw 2007  doesnt really feel any different. i mean. SO WHAT? 2007 only what. 2006+1. wahlao very big deal meh? why must have fireworks on 1st jan only? why not 1st feb or 1st november? actually i shouldnt be complaining la, cs there's actually always a fireworks display during my birthday. HAHA. ok so not the point. how about 1st october?but its like 2007 + 237 days leh. quite special what, the number nice right. ok whatever la. im working tmr btw, and work totally stinks sewage. its like.. ok shouldnt elaborate la later one more 2000 word paragraph. go figure. im all for the money part, and working is fine, but.. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;AIYA GO FIGUREEEE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. ok la, make you all happy k. i post a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; picture for you. yes you kpo person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/647224/collage4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/264652/collage4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; feeling happy alrd anot. i sacrificed 2 beautiful pictures to put up. i need some credit. tell you a secret, ok not so much of a secret anymore because you indeed are a kpo person and i bet you wanna keep on reading cs i know you cant resist and temptation is pulling you to read more. like even if i type rubbish you'll keep reading, well because you are a big bbqomfgwtf kpo person ok should i get on with it? see now your getting excited bet your ass is like only sitting on half the chair actually you can stop reading here alrd la cs theres actually no secret. but i can tell you that actually i dont see any difference in this picture. ok man u match. bye bitches. happy new year, whatever, happy 1st jan. thats&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;j-a-n-u-a-r-y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. and &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;carmen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;dez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;SMILE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;you'll always be my thunder so bring on the rain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116763782943965820?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116763782943965820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116763782943965820' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116763782943965820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116763782943965820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2007/01/heyho-ther.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116694802730322508</id><published>2006-12-24T15:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T16:13:47.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/687730/SP_A2133.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/293503/SP_A2133.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;HAPPY&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;CHRISTMAS&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;W&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;W&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;W&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; many people wld say, its a time for giving, and a time for lovin' and a time for sharing. haha i wld say, this is the best way, to end the year. we could look back, and relive the joyous moments all over again, and try to forgive and forget all the twisted ones. its a time to look back, and laugh at all our stupidity, and look at ourselevs and in the mirror now and realise how much we have grown once again, because another year has passed, and the end is always the start of a new beginning. lets just say, all i want this christmas is to be near my friends and family. because all we need is, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/4014/SP_A2135.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/366703/SP_A2135.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;love lifts us up where we belong, where eagles fly, on a moutain high.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/807767/scholes-getty-500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/69591/scholes-getty-500.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;man utd is loveeee.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;these calls are getting longer. and these nights go on forever. i do believe im getting better knowing you, hopefully all of you. sweet darlin', this is my confession to, the crimes of wanting you, badly. and darlin', if your wondering, heres your answer, yes i like you, i can love you.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116694802730322508?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116694802730322508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116694802730322508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116694802730322508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116694802730322508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2006/12/happy-christmas-www-many-people-wld.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116672678175059802</id><published>2006-12-22T02:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T03:08:41.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/807331/SP_A2120.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/933523/SP_A2120.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; hey all! well as you can see, i've been to mt faber, AGAIN! hahaha, thats shimmy homingbaby cheryl me and viknesh ( IF YOU CAN FIND HIM LOL ) in the pic. ok it actually looks quite nice even tho the timing was quite random! haha.&lt;br /&gt;haha ok so anyways, im like so darn tired and i actually have no idea why i'm doing this. ok anyways, i found this old pic of the F-A-M! we so seldom meet, and i miss my cousins! i miss my yinfei! OMGWTFBBQQQ!! life is always easier when you're younger! ok we all look quite crappy in the photo so dont ask!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/650014/x1pbglk-vqL4BtAhaxNUQCxJT5GodzrHhVnWUSzl0JLvAjszriJz7eQ0UEjMCCK3JDAa2rZv71XnfMVfx3DF4mpbWMF-SZ9nbtaFOBtZv0W389pahizO5ODRedmNo7MWPFn1DT5tlhIlsrjRUi09fZ0BmS3o4t.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/333653/x1pbglk-vqL4BtAhaxNUQCxJT5GodzrHhVnWUSzl0JLvAjszriJz7eQ0UEjMCCK3JDAa2rZv71XnfMVfx3DF4mpbWMF-SZ9nbtaFOBtZv0W389pahizO5ODRedmNo7MWPFn1DT5tlhIlsrjRUi09fZ0BmS3o4t.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahaha ok so whatever, its 2.28 am and my kpdarlin's (ok not so much of a darlin now) scratching on my chair. ohhhhh, and if your wondering, ERAGON is a super slipshod movie, and i mean super! LOTR (lord of the rings) OWNS YO!!! and eragon is quite unrealistic also la, like doesnt feel real, unlike LOTR which is, what viknesh would prolly say, GODLIKEEE, or jeremy would say, POWERRRR or kt would say POWER 33, ok i have no idea what that means. but i suddenly realised 3 of you(shim/kt/homing) like the word POWER. and i have no idea why also. hahaa ok so not the point, but eragon is not like.. FANTASTICCC, but its like, gooooood. buttocks. haha, owells im trying to kill time here. anyways.. people are fake btw! they act so well in the front but ohhhh, you dont know what dark and dirty things people wil say behind your back. haha oh speaking of dark and dirty, i so wanna watch harry potterrr larr.. dark and dirty sounds so.... dark and dirty right? and it makes me think of harry potter. ok dont ask me why. haha,&lt;strong&gt; i need my &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;homing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;baby&lt;/span&gt;, i need my &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;shim&lt;/span&gt;/&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;dez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;kt&lt;/span&gt;. i need my &lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;carmen&lt;/span&gt;/&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;sab&lt;/span&gt;/&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;liane&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; ok bye. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;because you are the brighter star, and im love with who you are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/531509/untitled46.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/40701/untitled46.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/932236/SP_A2108.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116672678175059802?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116672678175059802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116672678175059802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116672678175059802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116672678175059802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2006/12/hey-all-well-as-you-can-see-ive-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116646882030277936</id><published>2006-12-19T02:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T03:07:00.540+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/704933/DSC00754.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/643201/DSC00754.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;soooooooooooooooooooooo........long day long day. LIANES BACK! heh! went for cheryls and ivys birthday meeting. ehh seriously, the only thing i liked at village was the waffle! mm. o, finally met up with my darlings sab carmen and LIANNNEEEE!! omg, too long it has been! btw my moms off like forever and christmas shopping this week!hahah anways, here are mega piled up pictures, speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;its funny how some people just dont grow outta their old ways uhh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/248090/DSC00739.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/316095/DSC00739.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; hahahahhaa. ok. LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/791250/DSC008221.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/935966/DSC008221.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; HAHAHAHA OK DOUBLE LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/939367/DSC00766.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/236612/DSC00766.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;sab is that really you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/982945/DSC00759.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/379222/DSC00759.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                      hahaha ok wtf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/21760/30-10-06_0103.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/434420/30-10-06_0103.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;heres a pic of mccat. do not try this at home. this has been done by trained professionals and should not be attempted by anyone anywhere anytime at any place. (pardon the ugly bed spread!)&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116646882030277936?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116646882030277936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116646882030277936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116646882030277936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116646882030277936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2006/12/soooooooooooooooooooooo.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116634954853444764</id><published>2006-12-17T17:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-17T17:59:08.550+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/51605/SP_A1928.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/696667/SP_A1928.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; hahaha hey WWW. im currently waiting for shimmy to get his make up and spandex on. haha ok im kidding, but he is seriously taking forever to get ready? haha. btw, liane is so coming back tmr! guess she couldnt keep her 'secret' afterall! hahaha! o.. christmas is coming, which means december is ending, which means goodbye 2006! well, not a very rough year indeed, haha, well, at least it was a drama-less one! probably because we're all becoming the people we were meant to be, and growing out of our childish ways. well to everyone out there, &lt;strong&gt;happy christmas in advance&lt;/strong&gt; because im soooooo excitedd! and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;keep holding on, cause you know we'll make it through. just stay strong cause you im here for you. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/893329/DSC02905_edited.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/847904/DSC02905_edited.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; anyways, i was at topshop yesterday? and i saw this really pretty pair of skinny jeans, well according to jeremy it kinda sucks, ok, so not the point? i like it anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/926635/SP_A1941.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/430833/SP_A1941.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;people look forward to christmas, because they know its a time for miracles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116634954853444764?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116634954853444764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116634954853444764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116634954853444764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116634954853444764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2006/12/hahaha-hey-www.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116594033982562484</id><published>2006-12-12T23:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-13T00:18:59.903+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>thinking back, i dont know how why all of sudden, you could be so well with someone, and yet, after just a simple line, detest each other for the rest of your lives. we cant be perfect. one cant do everything right 24/7. and whatever has happened, well happened, and we cant change the past. no matter how hard we hate that someone, the past will never go away. so i think its useless to bear that heavy responsibility of disliking that someone. if that person isnt gonna change, then i think it isnt worth that speck of energy we spend cursing and swearing on how horrible he/she is. so whats so bad about reviving a friendship you once had. and friends from way before, even after the lousiest and meanest quarrel, will eventually find our ways and remain friends. so there isnt any point in showing faces and being petty and childish. our friends are like a mirror, they tell us who we really are, and guide us on our way when we decide to change. they never let go of your hand, and journey with you through thick and thin. friends stay, even after the nastiest squabble. friends stay, forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alright! non emo. haha, kinda pigged the whole day today! supposed to meet mr shim yo, but he's being a lazy pig.hahaha anyways, im pretty lazy so im just gon throw smething, whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/282519/Picture(5).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/623074/Picture%285%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; this pic always somehow remind me of dez. dont ask me why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/443960/backsides2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/91693/backsides2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;hahaha, this feels centuries ago! haha, carmen look at how you dressed! AHAHHA DUDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.......................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/249061/SP_A1704.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/572503/SP_A1704.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;hahaha think shemi sed you looked as tho you've had got boobs in this. haha!&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/372646/Picture(7).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/76561/Picture%287%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;haha ok, this picture always made me think, wtf dez, wth are you doing. haha. MODEL POSEEE YAR? AHAHA. the other two are homing and julian btw!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/992220/SP_A0148.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/299444/SP_A0148.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;hawker after class! ok i think i hold my chopsticks very retardedly, thanks for taking such a b-e-a-u-tiful pic mckt. very artistic.LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/735169/SP_A1051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/713385/SP_A1051.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/412178/SP_A1769.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/575356/SP_A1769.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;i look good in a branded cap yo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/294457/SP_A1783.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/272590/SP_A1783.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;hahaha, to shimmy for constantly accompanying me to mt faber! haha at least you got to see fake snow right? hahaha! and learn what a homo tommy is! i saved your white ass!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/166529/SP_A1529.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/874662/SP_A1529.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;haha paragon, ehh, dont know why i posted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/465316/SP_A1784.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/766575/SP_A1784.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;mt faberrrrrrrrrrrrrr, 3 more hrs. 3 more hrs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/594017/SP_A1398.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/777437/SP_A1398.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;hoe-ming babbbbbbbbbyyyyyy! ehh. IMY IMY IMY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/165910/SP_A1720.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/482484/SP_A1720.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;haha heres to end it, with special guest from mr cat, mr mohawk cat mind you! very rare indeed...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SYLA PEOPLE!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116594033982562484?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116594033982562484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116594033982562484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116594033982562484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116594033982562484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2006/12/thinking-back-i-dont-know-how-why-all.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116551452987757009</id><published>2006-12-08T00:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T02:02:10.610+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>what do you do when you have someone by your side, but cant help but feel extremely lonely at the same time? when your physically in a room, filled with bright lights, but all you see is the darkness? because sometimes, i think love ain't enough. what's love when you leave that person alone to stand on her own. sometimes, all we need to hear is simple, like a call to say i miss you. or a hug to say thank you. or a kiss on the cheek to tell you that i love you. that's not too much to ask, right? cause i can't help but feel so empty. and it's funny, because it's only times like these, where unexpected people come knocking on your door, offering a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. then it'll suddenly hit you that you've chosen to let the wrong person go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a big big big thank you to my bestest buddy &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SHIMMY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;(see your name the biggest)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;viknesh&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;victoria&lt;/span&gt;. (: really sorry for dragging you people all the way up to mt faber just for me to see myhoming, ok din forget you too KT. haha. and for making you guys walk a hell of a long route down. at least i made you guys laugh like hell right? or rather i made myself laugh like a totally deranged person. pardon that! haha ok but i wont forget to treat you to an ultra relaxing foot massage when i get my pay after i work alright shim! actually right, i kinda helped you la. you had a few romantic moments leh! ehh like this you supposed to treat me oready. haha. and uhh kt, I THINK YOU SHOULD STOP TAKING BREAKS LA! work your tiny ass off la, they wont pay you to sit down and talk to homing yanno! no ones that lucky, not even you yo! haha. anyways, the working hours at mt faber totally sucks la fuck. burn the whole bloody place down. i miss you homing, IMYOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU. wher are you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116551452987757009?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116551452987757009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116551452987757009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116551452987757009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116551452987757009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2006/12/what-do-you-do-when-you-have-someone.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116543016279539658</id><published>2006-12-07T02:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-07T02:41:05.853+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/868330/SP_A1300.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/812075/SP_A1300.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;at the end of the day, when it comes down to it, all we really want is to be close to somebody. so this thing where we all keep our distance and pretend not to care about each other, it's usually a load of bull. so we pick and choose who we want to remain close to, and once we've chosen those people, we tend to stick close by. no matter how much we hurt them. the people that are still with you at the end of the day, those are the ones worth keeping. and sure, sometimes close can be too close. but sometimes, that invasion of personal space, it can be exactly what you need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116543016279539658?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116543016279539658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116543016279539658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116543016279539658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116543016279539658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2006/12/at-end-of-day-when-it-comes-down-to-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116539289906157577</id><published>2006-12-06T15:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T16:20:05.360+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>yanno ya can catch free movies at cathy the cineplex? hah. the back doors of the cinemas are always open so you can just walk in. go figure! HAHA OK, AND THEY'RE GON SHOW TMNT NEXT YEAR IN APRIL. HAHA. anyways, watch this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/971503/SP_A1678.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/936679/SP_A1678.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; romantic right? aww. hahaha! thats homing and shimmy. caught you cheating on me. HAHAHA. SO FINALLY WENT JOB HUNTING! duh. haha, with dez and carmen, its tiring seriously. haha, people going for job interviews, just a reminder, dont forget your ic/ birthcert/ passport/ mother/ father/ principal/ plse cert, very ultra/mega/extremely important, right dez? haha, singapore stinks la. we live our lives on routines- destination&gt;TOWN! activity&gt;whatever we did yesterday/ two days ago/ a month ago. theres never something which will excite you, unless according to dez-reading her blog. hah! i never wake up anymore going, HOLY CRAP, TODAY'S GON BE AN AWESOME DAY. nope. doesnt happen anymore, think that last time was when my dad brought us to KL. ok wait, maybe that never happened before. i need something to live for. give me something to live for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/695155/SP_A1514.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/599290/SP_A1514.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ok anyways, meet mr sunshine, my bestfriend, with his super sonic laser beam eyes. haha, scary not? copy and paste this page and send this to at least 100 people or you'll have bad luck for over 10,000 years and you will never find your true love and mr sunshine will appear at your bedside tonight at 12 midnight. MUAHAHAA, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GOOD LUCK.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116539289906157577?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116539289906157577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116539289906157577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116539289906157577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116539289906157577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2006/12/yanno-ya-can-catch-free-movies-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116524106152368963</id><published>2006-12-04T20:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T22:04:21.596+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;and in case you were wondering, you are like a sunset to me. you're all kinds of beautiful as you end my day, and you sweetly retire as stars chase you away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116524106152368963?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116524106152368963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116524106152368963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116524106152368963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116524106152368963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2006/12/and-in-case-you-were-wondering-you-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116504497252789030</id><published>2006-12-02T15:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-02T15:36:12.526+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/317307/With_And_Without_Flash.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/471873/With_And_Without_Flash.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHA ok laugh it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;credits to wayniq. HAH.&lt;/strong&gt;fulla shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116504497252789030?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116504497252789030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116504497252789030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116504497252789030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116504497252789030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2006/12/hahaha-ok-laugh-it-off.html' title=''/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28598561.post-116498410053987013</id><published>2006-12-01T21:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T22:41:40.620+08:00</updated><title type='text'>YOU'RE A MIRACLE THROUGH AND THROUGH.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/8385/phoenix_teaserbig.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/447599/phoenix_teaserbig.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ok , so guess what, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX IS FUCKING OUT!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; ok not exactly, but the trailer is, and apparently, its only opening next year, JULY 13! WTF! thats so fucking long, thats like 7 months. i cant wait that long so someone spin the hands faster. cause i need to watch it badly!!!!!!!! please please please please please. o and if you go check out the pics, haha, there's this kissing scene, ok whatever, just go check it out cause im quite lazy to post it. Cho Chang(Katie Leung) pretty meh?&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/1600/51097/harry%20potter%20and%20the%20order%20of%20the%20pheonix.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7579/3031/320/440820/harry%20potter%20and%20the%20order%20of%20the%20pheonix.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;excited oready? i am, im totally ablaze! ok scratch that, i have to wait 7 bitch face months just to catch it, what a drag. hopefully there'll be better movies showing till then, something unlike 9:56 or COLIC or BATTLE OF WITS or whatever the title is, or SAW 3 WHICH IS TOTALLY R21. IT SUCKS TO BE 17! we need better movies hollywood, o, wait. ok cant blame em, there're actually some pretty awesome shows up but LIDO AND EVERYWHERE ELSE AINT SHOWING EM! or showing em at some crappy timeslots, timeslots where the whole goddamn island can't adjust. WASSUP MANN?? ok anways, EPL update for you WWW,&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; man utd beat everton 3-0!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; still 3 points clear baby! and muahahaha, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;arsenal lost fulham 2-1.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; WHOS YOUR DADDYY SHIMMY/KT/VIKNESH/SIURONG/ALOT OF OTHER ARSENAL FANS OUT THERE. MUAHAHAHA. ok, did you notice, having a blog is a trend! having a blog makes you cool all of a sudden! im so glad i have one, im so glad im cool, can you tell?.....blogging actually makes you look quite dumb dont you think? its like your pouring your heart out for all the whole wide world to read and judge, and somehow, feels like your talking to the wall, no feelings returned, no response, no warmth, no sympathy. makes you stupid, but cool, as i mentioned. hah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someone once told me, we can't help feeling annoyed when we hear something about ourselves being gossiped among some certain others, thats because we just can't accept that the fault lies in us, but if we swallow our pride, and accept the fact, we'd become better people, cause lets face it, the truth sucks, it fucking hurts. and we always choose not to accept it. we always choose not to change. but hell, saying it makes no shit difference if you dont portray it in your actions, and its stupid cause i always hear about people changing, but they always look the same, inside out. there are always two directions to choose from,  the light and the dark, and well, being the smartasses we are, its only natural to chose the dark one, cause basically, who can live without a challenge? and ohh, yeah, the table always turns back, and slaps us in the face, cause sooner or later, we'll be back here, at square one, reliving the past, in the present, choosing the dark from light all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;i need you here like you've always been, like heaven needs more to come in, like the orphan needs home once again, like the dragonflys wings need the wind, cause i need you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28598561-116498410053987013?l=-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/feeds/116498410053987013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28598561&amp;postID=116498410053987013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116498410053987013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28598561/posts/default/116498410053987013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://-sevenfortyseven.blogspot.com/2006/12/youre-miracle-through-and-through.html' title='YOU&apos;RE A MIRACLE THROUGH AND THROUGH.'/><author><name>Bridget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14884151944556434738</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
